


Changes

by SPowell



Series: New Beginnings series [3]
Category: Starsky & Hutch
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-26
Updated: 2012-02-26
Packaged: 2017-10-31 19:10:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 22,583
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/347436
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SPowell/pseuds/SPowell
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Third in a series.<br/>"New Beginnings" and "Life as We Know It" come before this story.<br/>Joanne and Barbara move to Bay City, and Starsky and Hutch help them find a place to live. Valentine's Day is approaching.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Changes

**Author's Note:**

> slash, explicit  
> committed relationship  
> post "Sweet Revenge"
> 
>  
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own the characters from the TV show “Starsky and Hutch”. All original characters are mine. HTML This is written for fan entertainment purposes only.

_Turn and face the strange...changes_

_Changes --David Bowie_

“Dobey didn’t seem very surprised,” Starsky noted as Hutch pulled out of the parking lot of the Pits and into late afternoon traffic. They had just had lunch with their former supervisor, breaking the news to him that they’d decided not to come back to the job. Starsky had been gone ever since he’d been shot by Gunther’s hit men, and Hutch had taken leave before Christmas in order to visit his dying father in Minnesota.

“I think he guessed a while ago that you weren’t going to come back,” Hutch speculated. “And he knows we’re a package deal.”

Starsky turned sharply to look at him. “Hutch, I hope you didn’t—“

“No, Starsk. It’s like I told you—I lost my enthusiasm for the job a long time ago. I’m ready to call it quits.”

Starsky laid his head back on the leather head rest of the black 1980 Camaro Hutch had bought upon their return from Minnesota. In Starsky’s opinion, his partner behind the wheel of this car was a fucking wet dream, and right now he wanted nothing more than to get Hutch alone. When he’d gotten on the plane to go back to New York with his mother, he hadn’t realized he’d be gone so long. It had taken weeks to wrap up Joanne Starsky’s affairs and sell her small home, and even longer for Hutch to help his mother tie up loose ends after his father’s death and help his sister and her family move into the family house. Now it was suddenly February, and they had hardly been able to spend any time together at all.

Since Starsky returned to Bay City two days ago, his time had been spent entirely with his mother, whom he loved but was more than ready to get out of his apartment and into her own place.

“I dunno, Hutch. Was this the best idea—our moms moving here?  Maybe we should’ve tried to talk them out of it.”

Hutch stopped at a traffic light and looked over at Starsky. “Your mother driving you crazy already?”

“Yours isn’t? Man, Hutch, I haven’t had one second alone with you since I left Duluth! We’ve gotta get them out from under our feet!”

Hutch laughed softly and drove on, making a right turn onto Starsky’s street. “We’ll just have to find them a place to live really fast, that’s all.”

“Are you kidding? Have you heard them talking about what they’re looking for?” Starsky shook his head, slightly over-grown curls bouncing. “They’ll never be satisfied. Hey, maybe they can live at my place for a while and I’ll move in with you,” Starsky suggested, giving Hutch a look that warmed his insides and hardened his nether region into a steel pole faster than he could even process the words. “I know you wouldn’t wanna leave your plants.”

Hutch pulled the car to the curb in front of Starsky’s apartment and shut off the ignition.  “That’s a thought…we have a lot to discuss.”

“Talkin’s about the last thing on my mind, Blondie.” Starsky opened the car door and got out, stretching his legs. “So how does it feel to drive a real car, by the way?”

“Pretty good,” Hutch admitted, joining him on the sidewalk. “At least I don’t have to worry about it breaking down every few miles.” He tried to adjust his hard-on in his pants without his partner noticing, but of course Starsky did. He gave Hutch a leer and walked ahead of him up the stairs, swinging his ass suggestively.

Hutch growled. “You’d better stop that before I pin you to the wall right in front of your mother.”

Starsky laughed and unlocked his door. Immediately upon entering the apartment, they were bombarded with the delicious aroma of cooking food. “I’m gonna gain ten pounds before I get her outta here,” Starsky muttered as he hung up his jacket and holster.

“Hi, Ma,” he greeted Joanne when she came out of the kitchen. She kissed him on the cheek. “Dave! Did you and Hutch have a good time with your captain?” She patted Hutch on the cheek.

“If you call telling him we quit ‘a good time’,” Starsky answered. “It felt like the end of an era.”

Hutch cast his partner a sympathetic look.

“Sorry about that, sweetie, but just think about it…now you get to start something new.” Joanne looked from one man to the other. “Have you two thought about what you want to do with yourselves?” She sat down on the couch and Starsky plopped down next to her. “Careful, David, you’ll ruin the springs in the couch that way,” his mother admonished. Starsky sent Hutch an exasperated look over Joanne’s head while she straightened a doily that had somehow appeared on his coffee table.

“We haven’t really had a chance to talk about what we’re going to do,” Hutch put in. “Actually, we were thinking maybe Mom could come over here and stay with you a night or two while we work things out over at my place.”

Joanne smiled knowingly. “Ah, I see. You want a little _alone_ time.”

Hutch turned a deep shade of red and looked away.

“Ma! Could you at least _pretend_ not to know?” Starsky pleaded.

Joanne laughed and patted her son’s hand where it rested on his jean-clad knee. “Sure, honey. If it makes you feel better.” She stood up. “I’ll call Barbara and tell her we’re going to be roomies for a while.” She crossed the room to the kitchen and picked up the phone. Hutch picked the doily up with two fingers and raised his brows. Starsky grabbed it and shoved it between the couch cushions.

“So you said you had a long talk with your mom last night?” he asked Hutch, moving his leg so that it touched his partner’s.

“Yeah,” Hutch said, his eyes moving to their legs where heat began to spread toward his groin. All Starsky had to do was touch him, and he was instantly on fire. He cleared his throat. “She wanted me to know that after spending so many years focused on my sister, I now have her full attention.” He gave his partner a doleful look, and Starsky laughed, leaned in, and gave him a comforting kiss so sweet and tender, Hutch suddenly wanted very much to get him alone.  Starsky’s eyes mirrored the thought, promising that later they would have their time.

“Starsk…” Hutch ventured after a moment, “you know, the money I’m getting from selling Dad’s business, not to mention the money he left me…it’s more than enough for us to live on for a long time. You don’t have to worry about us finding work right off.”

“Can we wait to have this conversation?” Starsky asked, shifting uncomfortably.

“Thought you didn’t want to _talk_ when we’re alone.”

“Not immediately, no,” Starsky’s eyes twinkled a moment before turning serious. “Look, Hutch, I’m not going to let you pay my bills.”

“Our bills,” Hutch corrected.

“That’s something else we need to talk about.”

Hutch sighed. “Okay, but we are going to resolve some of this stuff before getting to the festivities, if you catch my drift.”  
  
“Terrific.”

Joanne re-entered the room. “It’s all settled. Barbara said she’ll be ready and packed when you pick her up.”

Hutch stood. “I’ll go get her, then.”

“Okay, and when you get back, dinner will be ready. We can all eat together.”

Starsky stared at the ceiling, thinking at this rate, it was going to be midnight before he could get his hands on Hutch.

 

An hour later, the four of them sat at Starsky’s kitchen table eating a delicious meal of roast pork loin, broccoli, baked potatoes, and boiled carrots.

“Oh, Joanne, this is marvelous!” Barbara Hutchinson gushed after swallowing a bite of meat. “We have to make sure we have a good kitchen in our new place.” She turned to Starsky and Hutch. “When are you boys going to take us house-hunting?”

“We thought tomorrow would be good,” Starsky answered. _The sooner the better._

“I’ve circled several places in the paper,” Joanne said. “All in our price range and within the area. We don’t want to live too far away from you.”

“I was just telling Kenneth last night that this is his time. I am going to focus all my attention on him,” Barbara stated, spearing some broccoli with her fork.

Hutch locked eyes with Starsky. _See what I mean?_

“Pick us up early. ‘The early bird gets the worm,’” Joanne reminded them.

“’Early to bed and early to rise…’” Barbara put in.

“’He who hesitates is lost’,” Joanne returned, taking a sip of water.

“’Nothing venture, nothing gained,’” Barbara smiled.

“’Procrastination is the thief of time,’” Joanne laughed.

Barbara thought a moment. “’Seek and ye shall find!’” She announced.

Joanne laid her fork down and pondered.

“How about ‘silence is golden’?” Starsky asked, earning a frown from both women and a smile from his partner that was quickly hidden behind a napkin.

“Are you two going to keep your apartments or move in together?” Barbara finally asked, looking expectantly from her son to his lover and back again.

“That’s one of the many things we’re going to discuss tonight,” Hutch said, standing and picking up his plate. Starsky followed his lead and they headed for the sink.

After kissing their mothers goodnight, they left for Hutch’s. A balmy breeze brought a whiff of the ocean to their noses as they slid into the Camaro and buckled their seat belts.

“Home, James,” Starsky ordered.

“Already forgot my name, huh?” Hutch teased, starting the car.

“Not a chance, Romeo,” Starsky put his left hand on his partner’s knee and gently squeezed. “There’s only one guy for me.” He leaned a little closer. “I keep thinking about that night in your parents’ house...”

“Oh, yeah? Which one’s that?” Hutch inquired, pulling off Starsky’s street and onto the main road.

“The one when you nailed me to the mattress,” Starsky reminded him, watching with satisfaction as the bulge in Hutch’s pants grew at his words.

“Starsky! I’m driving!”

“Well, drive faster.”

“You want me to have a wreck? Man, talk about something else!”

Starsky leaned back. “Okay, what should I talk about?”

“Anything but— _that_!”

Starsky grinned at Hutch’s obvious discomfort. He thought a moment. “Did I tell you what I got to have in New York before I left?”

Hutch relaxed. “No, what?”

“Something I’ve been thinkin’ about for a long time. One of those foot-long hot dogs. The kind that are so long, meaty and tender….just slide right into my mouth so hot and slick…”

“Starsky…” Hutch gripped the wheel until his knuckles turned white.

“Sometimes I just like to hold them in my mouth and suck on ‘em. Mmmm…then press on the bottom with my tongue until the juices squirt out.”

Hutch took a quick right, pulling up behind a darkened furniture store and parking as far away from the street light as possible. He threw the car into park and unbuckled his seat belt. Starsky had already released his, and was fumbling with Hutch’s pants, unzipping them with shaking fingers.

“Oh, God…oh, Starsky…” Hutch breathed as his partner pulled his pants open and released his swollen cock. The next thing he knew, Starsky’s warm, wet mouth enveloped him, his agile tongue running over every ridge and curve and making him groan with pleasure. He risked a peek at the curly brown head dipping over his lap and felt his balls tighten at the erotic scene. “Uuh!” he grunted, grasping the steering wheel as Starsky moved down, attempting to swallow his throbbing member. Hutch gasped and shot his load, jerking in the seat, his partner sucking and swallowing like a pro. When Hutch went slack, Starsky sat up and grinned, licking his lips. “Yeah, I love those foot-longs!”

Hutch lay back in the seat, drained and replete. “I’m going to pay you back for that, Starsky.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. But right now, I’m gonna let you drive.” He opened the door and got out, dragging his wet rag of a body to the passenger door and sliding in as Starsky climbed over to take his place behind the wheel. Hutch was quiet the rest of the way home, lost in a post-coital half-doze.

He revived as soon as they reached his apartment, taking the steps two at a time.

“Whoa, where’s the fire, partner?” Starsky asked, following him up.  
“You have to ask?” Hutch growled, closing the door behind them and pushing Starsky against the wall. He took his lips in a dominating, toe-curling kiss that left Starsky panting for breath. Hutch’s hands had crept down to Starsky’s ass, and he pulled him closer, gasping when their groins pressed together.

“Starsk… I need you,” Hutch breathed into his partner’s mouth.

“’k,” was all Starsky could think of to say—his brain having instantaneously fried at the first touch of Hutch’s lips. Fortunately, that was all the go-ahead Hutch needed to lead him to the bedroom and push him over onto the bed. The brass headboard rattled against the wall when Hutch’s weight joined his partner’s.

“What happened to talkin’ first and fun after?” Starsky teased as Hutch’s fingers fiddled with the dark hair on his chest.

“So talk,” Hutch said, kissing his neck.

“I wanna house with a big bed in it,” Starsky mused, leaning his head to the side to give Hutch better access.  “I don’t care if it’s the only piece…” Starsky’s breath hitched as Hutch tortured him with his lips and tongue on an oral journey from Starsky’s ear to his collarbone. “…of furniture we got, but I want a big bed we can roll around …i-in.” Hutch lifted his head, his eyes lust-fogged and his blond hair endearingly mussed.

“Huh? So you wanna get a house?”

Starsky looked into his blue eyes, letting him see the sincerity and longing in his own. “Yeah. I been thinking about it. I want us to get a house. Together. What do you think?”

Hutch blinked, turning it over in his mind. Several seconds ticked by, each one seeming longer than the last to Starsky, who suddenly wondered if he was pushing too fast. Then a slow smile curled Hutch’s sensuous lips. “I love that idea, Starsk,” his partner said softly, and Starsky’s heart bloomed like a rose in the sun. They kissed again, this time slowly and gently.

“I know we won’t be able to afford much,” Starsky said when they’d parted. He reached up and ran a hand through Hutch’s hair, smoothing it out. “But I don’t care. We can fix it up.”

Hutch lay on his side and rested his head on his hand. “I’ve got quite a bit of money now. Plus, I’ve always had that trust fund Granddad left me sitting around gathering dust and interest.”

Starsky frowned. “I don’t wanna take your money.”

“Don’t think of it as mine…it’s ours!” Hutch objected.

“How do you see that?” Starsky’s body had tensed, and his muscles felt like thick cords of wire under Hutch’s hand as he stroked the length of his partner’s arm.

“I see it because I love you, and what’s mine is yours and what’s yours is mine.”

“Except I don’t have much to give you,” Starsky reminded him. Hutch sighed. Unbending his arm and resting his head on it, his face was inches away from Starsky’s.

“You’re wrong..you give me everything, Starsky. Everything.”

Starsky felt his eyes stinging. _Stupid Blinz gets me every time with his soft voice and sweet words,_ he thought, leaning in and pulling Hutch closer for a deep kiss, making love to his mouth with his lips, tongue and teeth until Hutch was hard and panting.

“Now it’s payback time,” Hutch suddenly turned the tables on his partner, moving his body around and pinning him to the bed. With finesse that surprised even him, Hutch began opening the buttons of Starsky’s shirt with his teeth and tongue, thinking all the while that he was lucky his partner wore his shirts open practically to the navel. As it was, his tongue and mouth muscles were sore when the flaps of the shirt finally slid apart, revealing the chiseled abs, tanned skin, and dark, lush hair. The look in his partner’s eyes was worth it, though. Nosing into his chest hair, Hutch licked and sucked along Starsky’s skin, paying no less and no more attention to the scars there. He felt Starsky tremble beneath him, and it filled Hutch with both joy and pride that he could elicit that response in him, especially after all the beautiful women his partner had been with over the years. Finding a brown nipple, Hutch teased it with his tongue, then nipped it with his teeth. “Oh, shit,” Starsky panted, running his hands up under Hutch’s shirt and skimming the soft skin on his sides. Hutch began to suckle, and Starsky squirmed beneath him, his hard prick nudging Hutch’s hip insistently.

“Gonna fuck you slow and hard, Starsk,” Hutch moved his head up and whispered, his breath hot steam in his partner’s ear. His hands carefully opened Starsky’s jeans and slid inside. Starsky raised his hips and helped to get them off, then yanked his shirt off his arms and tossed it away to land on the bedside lamp. Hutch was making short work of getting his own clothing off, and soon he was naked and pressed up to Starsky.

They both groaned simultaneously as skin met skin. Hutch continued paying homage to his partner’s body with his mouth and hands until Starsky begged him to give him some relief.

“You want me inside you, Starsk?” Hutch asked in a breathy whisper that went straight to his partner’s nuts, tightening them into a hard double knot of anticipation.

“Oh, fuck, yes,” Starsky moaned. Hutch chuckled evilly and reached for the lube. He spent long minutes getting Starsky ready, wanting to make sure he didn’t hurt him, although they had done this once before and his partner had more than enjoyed it. He soon had Starsky bucking onto his fingers, sweat rolling down his face and chest while he grunted and muttered curses that made Hutch’s cock jump against the mattress. Hutch shuddered with longing, nipped at Starsky’s inner thigh, and slowly withdrew his hand. Moving up, he pulled his partner’s legs up onto his shoulders and positioned himself at his opening.

“You ready for me, big guy?” he asked, breathing hard, his sweat-soaked hair falling into his eyes. He had been so excited by Starsky’s reactions to his love-making, he’d had to start picturing Dobey in a dress slow dancing with Simonetti to take things down a notch.

Starsky met his eyes and nodded, and they both watched while Hutch slowly sank into him, the muscles of Starsky’s stomach rapidly rising and falling as he panted. Hutch reached and took his lover’s cock in his still-lubricated hand, and he pumped it several times before setting his own hips in motion. Starsky cried out, his head leaning back on the pillow. Hutch stilled a moment, savoring the feeling of being inside the man he loved. He closed his eyes tightly and breathed in and out, controlling his passion. Running his left hand over Starsky’s leg, he fondled the red, steely phallus in his right, making his partner wriggle and groan in ecstasy. “That’s right,” he said softly. “Gonna fuck you good, Starsk. Gonna fuck you real good. Gonna make you come---hard.”

“Do it!” Starsky begged, and Hutch let go--he began to pump vigorously, his ass checks clenching on every thrust. An enveloping, undulating, heat swallowed Hutch’s dick. He was inside the man he loved more than life. Oh God, he was close…so close.

Starsky was making a noise somewhere between a bellow and a roar, his body trembling as his climax neared. He reached up and clutched the brass headboard, holding on for dear life as his partner nailed him and good. Up, up, up, hanging on the precipice as Hutch paused, perhaps to torture him. “Hu-utch…” he breathed, and Hutch reached down and placed the fingers of his clean hand to Starsky’s mouth, watching him open his lips, take them in and suck.  With a tremor that started at Hutch's groin and burst up through the rest of his body, he exploded, his mouth falling open. Watching him with hooded eyes, Starsky felt the burn turn to fire and he splintered apart, his back arching toward the ceiling, his juices surging forth, hitting him high on the chest in heavy spurts. Hutch clenched Starsky’s legs as he shot the last of his cum into his partner’s body.

“Oh, holy mother of God,” Starsky swore hoarsely, as Hutch slid out of him and fell to the side on the bed like a felled tree. “That was unbelievable. If I’d known you could fuck like that, I’d’ve dropped the women years ago!”

Hutch started laughing, the chuckle starting deep in his belly and gaining momentum. Soon he was clutching his stomach and tears were running out of his eyes. “You beat all, Starsk, you know that?” he managed to choke out.

Starsky grinned, and they lay together for long moments, fingers entwined as they caught their breath. They dozed, and then awoke again, gazing into one another’s eyes.

Starsky leaned forward and nibbled on Hutch’s lips, whispering dirty endearments that made Hutch blush. He was shocked to feel his cock stirring again. He’d already come twice that evening—how in the hell could he be getting it up again? His unending lust for his partner never stopped surprising him. He responded to the kisses with his own mouth, delving his tongue past Starsky’s lips to slide against his, sensation building upon sensation.

“I think you missed your calling—“ Starsky said. “You shoulda been a porn star.”

“Kept the mustache and worn a velvet suit like Caro said?” Hutch asked, grinning.

Starsky nodded, reaching for the erect part of Hutch’s anatomy that had recently given him so much pleasure.

“Couldn’t do it, Starsk,” Hutch shook his head. “Not unless you’re with me in every scene. I’ve never had a turn-around time like this in my life.”

“Really?” Starsky grinned, obviously pleased.

“Just don’t get the big head about it,” Hutch said, eyeing his other head.

Starsky barked a laugh and leaned in to consume his mouth with his own.

Just as their kissing grew frantic and their breathing heavy, they were startled apart by the ringing of the phone. Before he thought, Hutch snatched it up, the shaking of Starsky’s head conveying his thoughts loud and clear. _Dummy, we’re not cops anymore. You don’t hafta answer it if you don’t wanna._

Hutch’s hand stilled, hovering as he debated putting the receiver back down.  With an apologetic grimace, he raggedly answered the phone.

“Oh my God, are you two at it again? Don’t you ever give it a rest?” His sister’s voice softened Hutch’s erection faster than a kick to the balls.

“If I’d known it was you, I wouldn’t have answered. And what a coincidence! We were just talking about you.”

“If you hadn’t have answered, I’d’ve been spared the phone sex breathing,” Carolyn returned sarcastically, “And I don’t even want to know why you’re talking about me in bed!” As always, there was an underlying fondness in her voice that her brother didn’t miss. This was simply the way they were together.

“Hi, Caro!” Starsky called from his side of the bed, recognizing the tone Hutch saved for his sister.

“Tell Dave I said ‘hi’,” Carolyn directed, and when her brother did, she continued, “Actually, you’re going to happy I called, I think. A patient of mine told me about a place of his on the beach that he said he’d rent to Mom and Joanne, if they like it.”

“Really?” Hutch perked up. Part of the problem he and Starsky had faced in finding their mothers a house was that the women kept harping on getting a place on the beach. Those were difficult to find, unless you were willing to pay for a mansion and live in a shack. “Something decent they can afford?”

“Yep,” Carolyn said smugly. “His friend’s got a key to the place and said you can go by and pick it up. Got a pen?”

Hutch scrambled in the bedside drawer until he found one, along with a scrap of paper. Hastily, he scribbled down the name, address, and phone number of the friend. “Caro, you’re the best,” he said when he’d finished.

“What?” Carolyn made static noises over the phone. “Can you repeat that after I turn on the tape recorder?”

“Not on your life. You’ve already given me what I need.”

“Shit, I should’ve known better,” she groused, and then laughed. “Mom driving you crazy?”

“Just a little,” Hutch admitted, glancing at Starsky and then jumping when he found his partner staring at him with that _look_ that told him he was his one and only focus and there was absolutely nothing else he wanted to be doing more than devouring him in one way or the other. Hutch’s gaze ran down the naked length of him, settling on his fine-boned hand caressing his rock-hard cock with delicate fingers. Hutch’s mouth immediately went drier than the Sahara desert. “Uh…Caro, I’ll have to call you back.” Before she could reply, he hung up the phone.

“That was rude,” Starsky said in a voice too sultry for his own good.

“’s-your fault,” Hutch accused before latching his mouth onto a peaked nipple and sucking gently.

“Ah!” Starsky dropped his head back and then moaned deep and low, effectively reviving Hutch’s erection to its full glory.

Pushing his partner onto his back, Hutch positioned himself over him, nestling his cock against its mate. Latching onto Starsky’s gaze, he tried to convey all his love for him with the look alone and the gentle glide of the most sensitive and private parts of their bodies against each other. Their release was a slow build of volcanic proportion. By the time they reached the edge, they were breathing hard and sweating like they’d run miles in the desert sun, but their eye contact was unwavering. By unspoken agreement, they resisted the urge to close their eyes when the waves of pleasure simultaneously broke over them, holding one another’s gazes as their bodies jerked and shuddered together.

It was the most spiritual moment Hutch had ever experienced, and afterward he couldn’t stop the tears from forming in his eyes and dripping down onto his partner’s face along with his sweat.

He wasn’t surprised to find his Starsky’s voice clogged with emotion when he pulled him close and murmured his love for him into his ear. Hutch lay boneless for a moment on top of Starsky before shifting to the side to allow him breathing room. They were quiet for a long time, each marveling silently at the experience, knowing that their long-time love had become manifest in a way neither one had ever dreamed possible.

Finally, Starsky moved up to a more comfortable position on the bed and patted the place beside him. “Come up here,” he directed. Hutch dragged himself over to him and flopped down.

“Okay, but that’s the last time I move tonight,” he sighed, snuggling in. Starsky managed to snag the sheet with his foot and pull it over them. “I think I miss those cold Minnesota nights,” he told Hutch. “I liked the way you warmed my feet and how we snuggled under the down comforter every night.”

Hutch peered at him out of one eye. “You sayin’ you want to move to Minnesota?”

Starsky barked a laugh. “Yeah, that’d go over well…us moving there now that our moms are here.” He sighed. “Maybe we can talk ‘em into someplace an hour or so away.”

Hutch rolled over onto his back and stared at the ceiling. “I keep wondering what my mother means by this being ‘my time’. What in the hell does she think we’re going to do together?”

“Maybe we can find them some good hobbies to keep ‘em busy. Water ballet or something.”

Hutch rolled his head on the pillow and looked at Starsky before cracking up. “Water ballet?” he wheezed between laughs. Starsky’s grin was huge.

“You got any better ideas?”

Hutch pulled him closer and nuzzled his neck. “Nope. I got nothing.” With a sigh, he settled down, thinking how wonderful it felt to have a lover he could fuck one minute and laugh with the next. Completely satiated, he was asleep in seconds. Starsky lay listening to him breathe for a long time before drifting off himself.

********

Twenty-four hours later, Starsky and Hutch sat in The Pits, drinking beer and congratulating themselves on finding their mothers a place to live.

“Mom’s going to have the furniture they want to use from her house shipped over this weekend,” Hutch said, leaning his head back against the booth. He was exhausted. After seeing and heartily approving of the beach house, Barbara and Joanne had insisted their sons go house hunting for themselves. Hutch had never looked at so many dumps in his life.

“They were all horrible,” Starsky spoke his thoughts aloud, and Hutch knew he was talking about the houses and not his mother’s furniture.

“There’s got to be something better out there,” Hutch stated.

“Maybe we need to be looking out of the city,” Starsky said, taking a sip of beer.

Hutch looked at him. “You’d be willing to do that? Live out of the city?”

Starsky shrugged. “I don’t care where I live, as long as it’s with you, partner.”  
Hutch’s heart turned over, and he gave his lover a grin that could only be called sappy.

Huggy approached the table, catching the look between them. “You want to let the Bear in on the secret?” he suggested.

The partners snapped to attention and looked at him, twin expressions of embarrassment on their faces. Huggy laughed.

“Oh, come on. Here, let me hold the closet door open while you two come out.”

Hutch’s mouth fell open.

“What the hell are you talking about, Huggy?” Starsky asked, his shock masked by irritation.

Huggy took a seat opposite them in the booth. Waving a hand their way, he said, “Who in the hell sits side by side in a booth when there’s just the two of them? What two guys eat off each other’s forks and share a beer bottle? You two may have been able to fool some people over the years, but not Huggy Bear. I know what’s up with you, and it’s only become more obvious lately. What’s goin’ on—I need to dig up an anniversary gift? What’s the one for ten—aluminum? Hold on, I’ll go get a roll of foil.”

Hutch could feel the blush rushing up his neck and hitting his face. He put his arms on the table and laid his head down.

Starsky grabbed hold of Huggy’s arm as he was getting up and pulled him back down. He glanced at Hutch. “You want the God’s honest truth, Huggy?”

Huggy’s head shot back, affronted. “’Course.”

“Truth is, you’re right…me and Hutch are lovers.” A groan from within the nest of Hutch’s arms didn’t stop Starsky from continuing. “But it didn’t happen ten years ago—it happened over Christmas. I swear.”

Huggy’s eyebrows shot up. “You got to be kidding me! Why, I’ve thought you two were doing the naked tango years ago! At least by the time Hutch got messed up by Forest’s goons.”

Hutch raised his head and rubbed his hands down his face. “Why the hell didn’t you just ask us?” he questioned tiredly.

“I didn’t want to go dippin’ in your Kool aid. But, I’m gettin’ a little tired of being on the outs. Heard it through the grapevine you quit the force. Then heard the two of you just now talking about getting a place together, and thought it was ‘bout time ole Huggy Bear was let in on the secret.”

“Hell, Hug,” Starsky replied earnestly. “This is the first time we’ve talked to you since it happened, and we were going to tell you.” He felt Hutch’s eyes on him. _Eventually._

Huggy’s smile was wide. “Well, in that case, drinks on the house!” He stood up and went for a pitcher of beer.

“I can’t believe this,” Hutch moaned. “First our families, and now him. You think Dobey’s thought we’ve been sleeping together for years, too?”

Starsky couldn’t help smiling at his embarrassed friend. “Who the hell cares, Hutch? We are now, and we’re happy. Let’s leave it at that.”

***

Hutch and Starsky spent the next several days moving Joanne and Barbara into their beach house. Hutch had to admit that it was perfect for the ladies. Small, but not too small-- a separate bedroom for each of them and a roll-out sofa that would take care of guests. It was all on one floor, and had a fairly large kitchen with a bar, and two bathrooms. A patio in back looked out at the ocean.

Shortly after they moved in, Joanne and Barbara invited their sons over for dinner, along with a few other guests. The partners had discussed who those other guests might be, but couldn’t figure out who their mothers might know after their short time in Bay City. When Joanne opened the door, they walked in to a rather crowded living room. Not only were there several older people present, but there were some younger people, too.

“Good grief,” Hutch murmured in Starsky’s ear. “Who knew our mothers were such social butterflies?”

“You can probably blame that on my mom. She’s never met a stranger,” Starsky said.

“Like mother, like son,” Hutch shot back as their mothers bore down on them and led them into the room to be introduced to everyone present. It shocked Hutch to find his mother dressed so casually in dark jeans and a tunic-type shirt. He was used to the June Cleaver look.

“Pretty soon she’s gonna have a peace sign danglin’ from her string of pearls,” Starsky said in his ear, and Hutch smiled at how his partner could still tune into his thoughts, even having been off the street for so long.

They met Mr. and Mrs. Nash from the bungalow next door, a couple well into their eighties who seemed to be devoted to one other. Their daughter, Veronica, was a short brunette with wide green eyes, who was obviously attracted to Starsky. Hutch could tell by the way she stood so close to him and laughed at everything he said. He had to struggle not to be jealous, reminding himself that his partner wanted to be with him, not a woman. Still, years of seeing Starsky conquer the ladies were hard to forget.

Bill Wethersby was the next to be introduced. He was a gentleman somewhere in his sixties, with silver hair and a long mustache. His son was there, also, along with a male friend. Another couple who looked to be in their fifties insisted on being called Buffy and Ron. They carried a pet poodle, aptly named Yappers, that Hutch immediately wanted to muzzle.

Bill was in charge of the BBQ on the patio, and Starsky went out to help him. Hutch snagged a bottle of beer from the bucket of ice on the bar.

“Having fun, honey?” his mother asked him, her arm sliding around his waist.

“Sure, Mom,” Hutch answered, returning the squeeze. “What about you? You doing okay?” He knew his mother understood what he didn’t say. _Since Dad’s been gone._

“I’m fine, Ken. I had a long time to get used to the idea.”

“Yeah, but it ended up happening so suddenly,” Hutch reminded her gently.

“I miss your father, but I’m happy. The move has been good for me, and Joanne and I have fun. I’m glad to be here so close to you. I’ve missed you over the years.”

Hutch smiled and kissed the side of her head. “I’ve missed you too, Mom.”

“I meant to invite that nice Huggy Bear, but I forgot all about it. Next time we will.”

Hutch tried to imagine Huggy in this mix, with his colorful clothes and sometimes dubious choice in women. He shrugged, guessing it wouldn’t be any weirder than a lot of other things that had happened lately. Huggy, Joanne, and Barbara could always discuss how they’d all thought Hutch and Starsky had been screwing for years, if there wasn’t anything else to talk about.

Bill Wethersby announced that hamburgers and hot dogs were ready to be assembled, and most of the crowd moved out to the patio. Hutch remained leaning on the bar, beer in hand. After a moment, Starsky joined him.

“I think somethings goin’ on between Ma and that Wethersby guy,” he said with distaste.

“Oh, yeah? You mean romantically?” Hutch leaned sideways to see them mingling on the patio.

Starsky took a sip of beer. “Yeah. He seems awful interested in me…and in me liking him.”

“That bother you?” Hutch asked, putting a hand on the small of Starsky’s back.

Starsky’s dark blue eyes met his. “It’s been a long time since Pop died, and I’m sure Ma hasn’t been a nun, but it’s still hard to think about her that way, you know? Plus I’m a little old to be playing the ‘Uncle Bill’ scene.”

“Yeah,” Hutch agreed, seeing his point. He was glad his mother wasn’t the type to date.

“I tried to get away from him, but then Veronica wouldn’t leave me alone. Why don’t you let her know I’m yours?”

Hutch laughed. “Since when do you need me to save you from women?”

“Since I became yours, you dolt. What am I supposed to do when I woman comes on to me now?”

“I don’t know,” Hutch shrugged. “What do you you want me to do when one comes on to me?”

“What I want you to do is say you’re taken,” Starsky said emphatically.

“By you?” Hutch asked. “I wish we could just tell people, Starsk, but you know how they’ll react. We’ve been lucky with our families and Huggy. And we really don’t even know how Nick feels about it.”

Starsky looked grumpily at the floor, wishing he could change the way the world viewed two men in love.

One of the younger men approached them, either Bill’s son or his friend, Hutch wasn’t sure. He took a beer from the ice and opened it. “Your mothers sure are cool,” he said, taking a long drink. His eyes ran over Hutch, Starsky noticed, and he automatically stepped closer to his partner. Hutch looked edible in his white shorts and navy short-sleeved shirt, unbuttoned halfway down his smooth, tanned chest. His shiny blond hair and clear blue eyes gave him the look of a model.

“Sorry,” Hutch stuck his hand out to shake, “I can’t remember your name. I’m Ken.”

“I’m Scott Wethersby,” the man answered, with an attractive grin. He was very tanned, and had straight, dark hair that fell casually across his forehead. He reminded Starsky a little of John Colby, which didn’t heighten his initial opinion of the man.

A moment later, though, Scott extended his arm to encircle his friend who’d approached and reached to get a beer. “And this is Joe, my boyfriend.” Scott’s tone seemed to dare the men to say anything against the fact.

“Nice to meet you, Joe,” Starsky shook the other man’s hand. He didn’t know if the heady feeling he suddenly had came from the knowledge that these two men were gay or from the realization Scott wasn’t going to be hitting on Hutch. Suddenly he very much wanted these men to know that he and Hutch were a couple, so Starsky slid his arm around Hutch’s waist and squeezed. Scott’s eyes took in the move and he grinned.

“We live up the street,” Scott told them. “I got a place near my dad so I can help him out when he needs it. You two live nearby?”

“Not in this neighborhood, no,” Hutch answered.

The four men chatted about recent movies they’d seen, and after a few minutes, Hutch started to feel all the beer he’d consumed, and excused himself to use the restroom. He headed for the one that was connected to his mother’s bedroom, since it was farther from the guests and he could have a moment to himself. As he entered and crossed by the bed, he noticed a stack of books on Barbara’s nightstand, and, purely out of curiosity, stopped to sift through them. His mother had always been a big reader, her tastes leaning toward historical novels. These books were all non-fiction and seemed to be on the same topic: the sexual revolution. Could this be why his mother had been so surprisingly supportive about his sexual relationship with Starsky—even though there actually hadn’t been one? Barbara Hutchinson had certainly changed, and when Hutch stopped to think about it, most of the change had come in the past few years or so, which all happened to be the time when she had assumed that he and his partner were a couple. Perhaps her love for him had forced her to broaden her horizons on a few subjects. Shrugging, he put the books down and continued to the bathroom.

After using the facilities, Hutch flushed the toilet and washed his hands, smoothing his hair in front of the mirror. Feeling nosy, he opened the medicine cabinet and looked inside. Pepto-Bismal, Ben Gay, aspirin, bath oil. What had he expected to find? A bag of pot and a toke pipe? Shaking his head, he started to leave, but noticing a hang nail on his finger, he reached for the drawer to look for some nail clippers. Pulling it open, he pushed a few items around, then suddenly withdrew his hand as though bitten and quickly shut the drawer. Backing out of the bathroom, he almost tripped over the rug before turning and leaving the bedroom.

Starsky watched Hutch enter the living room and frowned at the look on his partner’s face.

“’Scuse me,” he said to Scott and Joe, and crossed the room. Drawing near Hutch, he rested his hand on his partner’s stomach. “What’s the matter, Hutch? You look like you saw a ghost or something.”

Hutch swallowed and shook his head. “I’ll tell you later.”

At that moment, Barbara entered the room from the patio and Hutch’s face went as red as Starsky’s beloved Torino. Sensing his partner’s discomfort, Starsky distracted Barbara by asking for the recipe for her spinach dip while Hutch composed himself.

Joanne came out of the kitchen, where she’d been talking on the phone. “Dave! Great news! Nicky and his girlfriend are flying in this weekend.”

Starsky made happy noises, but he really wasn’t sure this was such great news. He and his brother hadn’t spoken since his relationship with Hutch had changed. Even on a good day, their relationship was volatile at best. Added to that, there was no love lost between Nicky and Hutch.

“They’re going to stay at a nearby hotel, and I was thinking of having everyone to dinner Saturday night. Is that good for you two?” Joanne asked.

Starsky looked at Hutch, who, unable to think up a good excuse, nodded.

“Terrific!” she said, and walked out to the patio to talk to guests.

“Makes me glad we don’t have our own place yet,” Starsky muttered. “We’d feel obligated to let them stay with us.”

“Cheer up,” Hutch said, putting a hand on his partner’s shoulder. “Maybe this girl’s changed Nicky for the better.”

“Don’t hold your breath,” Starsky sighed.

By 11:30, the party was winding down. Hutch had just covered his third yawn when Starsky suggested they leave.

“Why don’t you fellas join us for a beer tomorrow night?” Scott suggested, with a glance at Joe, who smiled, adding, “Yeah, we’re going to have a few people over.” Hutch and Starsky agreed to be there at seven.

On their way to the car, Starsky commented, “We seem to be pretty popular lately. Our social calendar is booked all weekend. And just when I’m really wantin’ to spend some time alone with you.”

Hutch grinned, looking over his shoulder at the darkened, empty street before pushing Starsky against the side of the Camaro and kissing him soundly on the mouth. Starsky tilted his head, deepening the kiss, and Hutch sighed, melting against his partner.

Parting, they rested their foreheads together for a few seconds before separating and getting into the car. They didn’t notice a curtain moving back into place in the house across the street.

***

“Hutch?” Starsky asked, his lips moving against the tender skin at the crease of Hutch’s arm and shoulder.

“Hm?” Hutch answered. He lay with his eyes closed, his finger lazily drawing circles on Starsky’s back. His body still thrummed from being taken so enthusiastically by his partner the moment they’d entered the apartment.

“What was it you were so upset about at our moms’ house? You looked like you’d seen something, and then you got so red when your mom walked in…”

Hutch stiffened, and Starsky rose up on his elbow to look into his face.

“I-I was in the bathroom, and…”

Hutch looked so distressed, Starsky encouragingly put his hand on him, smoothing the flat planes of his stomach.

“…and I-I was,” he cleared his throat, “looking for some nail clippers for a hang nail. In the drawer, I saw…” he stopped, and Starsky moved his hand up to Hutch’s face, turning it so that he had to look at him. He frowned. “What did you see, Hutch?”

Hutch swallowed again, and Starsky’s heart started hammering.

“I s-saw…” Hutch closed his eyes tightly. “I saw…a...” The last word was a whisper, and Starsky leaned forward.

“You saw a what?”

Hutch’s eyes opened. “A vibrator. I saw a vibrator, Starsk!”

Starsky stared, dumbstruck, at his partner for several long seconds before breaking into uncontrollable laughter.

“What? What’s so funny?” Hutch sat up, leaning against the headboard of Starsky’s bed. “Why in the hell are you laughing?”

Starsky wiped his eyes with the back of his wrist and took several calming breaths. “Because…” then he broke into laughter again.

Hutch’s face closed off and he got out of bed.

“No, wait, Hutch…” Starsky reached toward his partner and grabbed his wrist, pulling him back to sit down beside him. “I’m sorry! But I th-thought you were gonna say something really awful, like a bloody knife! Or …or a severed arm or something!” His blue eyes twinkled and tears of mirth continued to run down his cheeks.

“Would you want to see a vibrator in your mother’s drawer, Starsky?” Hutch asked seriously, and his partner immediately sobered.

“No, I guess not.”

“My point exactly.”

“Well, I guess we gotta admit that our mothers are humans, too, with sexual needs like everybody else…”

“Starsky!” Hutch’s voice held a warning. “I never want to hear you say ‘mothers’ and ‘sexual’ in the same sentence ever again!”

Starsky lay back down and stared up at his handsome partner. “It’s a deal. Now come here.”

Hutch slowly lowered himself to the mattress and was immediately enveloped in Starky’s arms. “It just freaked me out, Starsk. I didn’t expect to see that, and I keep picturing …well, you know.” He winced.

Starsky kissed the top of his head. “Try to forget about it, huh? Think of pleasanter things…like Nick’s visit.”

Hutch chuckled against Starsky’s chest. “Or global annihilation.”

“What about our house hunt?” He asked after a minute. “Where do you think you want to live?”

“Where do you wanna live?” Starsky countered.

Hutch sighed, his arm moving to drape over Starsky’s waist. “Well, you know me. I’d love to live out in the woods. I’d like to have birdhouses and bat houses…”

“ _Bat_ houses?” Starsky asked incredulously.

“Sure. Do you know bats eat thousands of mosquitos a night? They’re really cool, Starsk.”

Starsky grunted. “If you say so.”

“And I’d love to be near a pond. We could canoe! And I could have a garden…” Hutch was becoming animated, and Starsky enjoyed just watching him. He realized that Hutch must really look forward to doing things he’d never had time for, such as tending a garden and watching birds. Starsky felt his partner deserved these small pleasures. He promised himself in that moment that he would do his damnedest to find Hutch his house in the woods.

***

Most of the next day was spent looking for that house, but, what with promising to go over to Scott and Joe’s, they only had time to visit four of the houses they’d circled in the paper. They found that their real estate agent either talked up the dumps, or somehow tried to convince them they needed five bedrooms and three baths. Hutch was ready to dump her and try another, but Starsky wanted to give her a little more time to find what they needed.

“Why, because she has tits the size of watermelons?” Hutch asked.

“No, smart ass, because she didn’t even raise an eyebrow when we told her we were buying a house together.”

“Gee, could that be because of all the money she stands to make by selling us a house?”

“Cynic.”

They quickly showered and changed, then, unsure if their hosts were going to serve dinner or not, ate a small snack before leaving.

When they pulled up on Sail Street, where their mothers now lived, Starsky commented on the car parked in the driveway. “That Wethersby guy’s there,” he grumbled.

“You mean Bill,” Hutch said.

“Whatever. I think he’s datin’ my mother!”

“Is that bad?” Hutch asked. “You don’t want her to be lonely, do you?” _Like my mother with her vibrator,_ he didn’t say out loud, but Starsky seemed to read his mind and looked all conflicted.

They pulled up in front of the small bungalow four doors down, where Scott and Joe had told them they lived, and got out of the Torino. Joe welcomed them at the door, his fair skin flushed from laughter. Past him, they could see several men lounging in the living room with cocktails.

  
“Dave! Ken! Come on in,” Joe held the door open for them to enter. Introductions were made all around, and Hutch quickly surmised that the group was comprised of four couples, including themselves and their hosts. Scott and Joe’s bungalow had the same floor plan as Joanne’s and Barbara’s: the front door opened into the living room, which was separated from the kitchen by a bar, the bedrooms and bathrooms down a short hallway to the right. The back patio looked out toward the ocean. The back doors stood open, the ocean breeze drifting in. The faint sound of the surf mingled with strains of Led Zepplin on the stereo.

A tall, muscular man shook Starsky’s hand, introducing himself as Benny. “Man, is that your car?” he asked, pointing to the Torino in the driveway, and they immediately launched into a discussion. Hutch shook his head, and followed Scott to the kitchen where he was offered a beer and some crab puffs. “Starsk likes nothing better than talking about his car,” he said. They headed for the living room and sat on the couch. “He’ll get along well with Benny, then,” Scott said. “He could talk nothing else all day and all night.”

“So, I noticed your father’s car at my mom’s,” Hutch commented after a moment, popping a crab puff into his mouth and washing it down with beer.

“Yeah, he and Joanne seem to be an item,” Scott laughed. “Dad really digs her.”

Hutch wasn’t sure what to say to that, so he kept silent. He was glad Starsky was out of hearing range. A guy named Don leaned over Hutch to snag a crab puff off the plate. “What line of work are you in, Ken?” he asked. He was a fairly nice-looking man with very straight, white teeth worthy of a dental ad.

“I’ve been a cop most of my life…Starsky and I were partners…but we’ve recently decided to move onto something else. We aren’t sure what as yet.”

“Wow, cops,” Don’s significant other, a short, dark-headed man named Phil piped up. “That sounds exciting.” His voice was slightly effeminate.

Hutch shrugged. “I guess it is, compared to some things.”

“Like accounting,” Phil laughed, nudging Don, who was evidently an accountant.

“I’m a lawyer,” Scott told Hutch. “Joe’s a paramedic, and Phil’s an interior decorator.” The men continued to talk, and every so often Hutch found his eyes wandering to his partner, standing casually near the front door talking to Benny.

Starsky took a long drink of beer. He’d just told Benny about quitting the police force.

“Sounds like dangerous work, but it must’ve been fulfilling,” Benny said, sipping his vodka tonic. “I’m just a real estate agent.”

“That’s a coincidence,” Starsky replied, “Hutch and I are looking for a house. Our agent hasn’t been very helpful.”

“Which agency?” Benny asked, and Starsky named a competitor. “Well, if you decide to switch, here’s my card,” Benny told him, taking one out of his wallet and handing it over. “What exactly do you have in mind?”

“Well, we want something out of the city, in the woods, preferably. A pond would be a bonus. A couple of bedrooms and baths. I would really love to find Hutch his dream house. Hey, if you do find something, call me…and don’t mention it to Hutch, k?” He scribbled his number on a napkin and handed it to Benny.

“I’ll keep my eyes open,” Benny promised. “Let’s go out and take a look at your car. I’ll show you mine—I just live a couple of houses down.” They went out the front door.

Don got up from the couch and went outside to sit in a lounge chair, and after a few minutes of chatting, Phil joined him. Hutch saw him perch on the edge of Don’s chair and lean down to kiss him before turning away. Stan and Joe were going through record albums by the stereo. Something by Peter Frampton started playing.

“So how long’ve you and Dave been together?” Scott asked Hutch conversationally.

“Well, we’ve been friends for close to ten years, but romantically we’ve only been together about a month.”

“Really? Were you involved in a serious relationship before Dave?”

Hutch colored. “Actually, we’re each other’s first, as far as men go.”

Scott looked surprised. “Really? At your age?” He immediately looked abashed. “Sorry. Didn’t mean that the way it sounded…it’s just that people usually realize their sexual proclivities early on and act on them before they reach their thirties.”

“I think Starsky and I are beyond the norm,” Hutch chuckled softly. “We just have always had very strong feelings for one another, and they finally…well…expanded to something more. Not to mention the fact that being partners on the police force wasn’t exactly conducive to a gay relationship.” He looked around the room. “I have to admit, being here, with other gay men, is almost surreal.” As Hutch was talking, he noticed that Scott’s knee had edged closer and was pressed against his own. Casually, Hutch moved away from the touch, only to find Scott shifting and touching him again. Hutch turned, looking him directly in the eyes, determined not to play his game, but Scott’s eyes were on Joe. He rose from the couch with a mumbled “Excuse me”, stepped around the glass coffee table, and strode across the room to where his boyfriend stood. As Hutch watched, Scott placed a hand on Joe’s shoulder, turning him from the conversation he’d been having with Stan, and kissed him passionately on the mouth. After a brief hesitation, Joe kissed him back, winding his arms around the taller man’s neck. Hutch turned away, unsure if he was uncomfortable because he was watching two men kissing, or because the men were kissing so openly in front of everyone else. Probably the latter, considering he and Starsky had been doing their fair share of kissing lately, among other things. But that didn’t mean he necessarily wanted to watch others do the same. He really wasn’t sure why he felt so uncomfortable.

Hutch decided he had misread Scott’s touch to his knee. He hoped he wasn’t being stereotypical and assuming that just because Scott preferred men, he must be turned on by _every_ man.  He was so deep in his thoughts, he startled when Starsky spoke to him. “Man, Hutch, you should see Benny’s car. It’s a 1965 Mustang convertible!” He reached out and took Hutch’s hand, pulling him to his feet. “Come look! He lives nearby.”

Hutch followed the two men outside, wondering how many gay men lived on this street, and down the road to a slightly smaller house the color of coral. The car was parked in the driveway. He made appropriate noises about it, even though he’d never paid that much attention to automobiles, which, of course, his partner knew very well. Sometimes he thought Starsky held out a hope of converting him into a car freak, just as he sometimes wished Starsky would sprout a green thumb.

As Starsky and Benny talked about pistons and transmissions, Hutch’s eyes wandered around the area. It was a quiet street, something he appreciated since his mother lived on it. All the neighbors he’d met so far seemed friendly and aware of what went on around them; he really couldn’t ask for better for his mother and ‘mother-in-law’. He smiled at the thought, recalling Vanessa’s mother, who had been even more of a bitch than her daughter. He winced, then, not comfortable with thinking ill of the dead. Starsky’s arm came around him, and Hutch realized he’d sensed his change in mood. Hutch returned the embrace.

“Something wrong, Babe?” Starsky asked, his hooded blue eyes showing slight concern.

Hutch shook his head. “Nope.” He pulled Starsky closer and nuzzled his ear. “Just thinking. It wasn’t important.”

Starsky frowned slightly but let it go as Benny lifted the hood of the Mustang and pointed something out underneath. With a small wave, Hutch started back for Scott’s house, cutting across to the backyard where Don and Phil were entwined in the lounge chair. He was a little surprised to see that Phil’s shirt was open and Don was tweaking one of his nipples as they made out. Hutch sniffed the air and thought he smelled marijuana. Not a prude by any means, he still felt uncomfortable with the illegal activity. After all, how embarrassing would it be to be caught in a situation like this by his former colleagues? Turning, he walked to the front again and waited until Starsky and Benny returned.  
“Hey, buddy,” he said, touching Starsky’s arm when he stepped up to the front porch. So involved in his conversation with Benny, Starsky hadn’t even noticed Hutch standing there, and he jumped slightly.

“Mind if we cut out a little early? I’ve suddenly got a terrible headache.”

Starsky clasped his hand. “Sure, Babe, just let me go in and tell Scott and Joe.”

Hutch got into the Torino, feeling a little shitty about lying to his partner and spoiling his evening, but he had the unsettling feeling of being watched, and just wanted to go home.

When Starsky returned and slid in beside him, he started the car and pulled out of the driveway, noting that “that Wethersby man” was still at his mother’s.

“Well, it’s only been about an hour, Starsk,” Hutch commented. “Sorry to ruin your good time, by the way.”

“Hey, I know how those headaches get to you,” Starsky replied, and slid his right hand along the back of Hutch’s neck, rubbing lightly and tugging gently at his hair.

“Starsk, I’m really sorry, but I lied to you about that,” Hutch said. “Not so much to lie to _you_ , but to Benny and the rest. I just wanted a reason to get away.”

“You weren’t having a good time?” Starsky looked surprised. “When I saw you talking to Scott and the others, you looked like you were having fun.”

“I was, I guess. I don’t know…I just got a weird feeling. And somebody was smoking pot out back, and that made me even more uncomfortable.”

Starsky shook his head. “We ain’t cops anymore. Not our place to worry about stuff like that.”

“And if the place was raided?”

Starsky barked out a laugh. “You know very well the police don’t bother with people smokin’ weed in the privacy of their own homes. Bigger fish to fry out there.”

Hutch sighed, knowing he was right. “I don’t know, Starsky. I guess it was something else that made me feel weird.”

Starsky waited. He knew there was more even before Hutch admitted it.

Hutch shrugged. “I really can’t put my finger on it.”

“Okay. Well, I hope you didn’t have too rotten a time, because I said we’d go back soon.”

Hutch glanced at him, not sure how he felt about that.

“Well, I couldn’t really refuse with us cutting out so fast, could I?” Starsky said. “Besides, I like Benny, and we were talking about car shows…I wanna hear more about the ones he’s been to. And it’s really kinda cool to meet other couples like us.”

“Do you really think they’re like us?” Hutch asked, staring out at the passing scenery.

Starsky looked at him. “I think they’re in love with other men, yeah. That’s what I meant, anyway. I like the idea of being able to sit next to you on the couch, real close, while we talk to other people. Of being able to put my arm around you and kiss you if I want.”

Hutch couldn’t argue with that. “Tomorrow night we see Nick,” he changed the subject.

“Yeah,” Starsky sounded less than enthused.

“Maybe you should plan to do some stuff with him, Starsk. Without me. You know he’s always been jealous of us and what we have.”

Starsky nodded, remaining silent. After a few minutes of driving, he said, “You know…my lease is up the beginning of next month. Maybe I should move out and in with you, even if we haven’t found a place yet.”

“That’d probably be a good idea,” Hutch agreed, excitement forming in his belly at the step they were taking. He leaned his head back and closed his eyes, thinking about various things at once. The houses they’d looked at that afternoon, how he’d surprised Starsky in the shower that morning, kneeling right there in the stall and putting his mouth on him—Starsky’s shout of release, his hands tangled in Hutch’s hair. He shifted in the seat, adjusting his crotch.

“What are you thinking about?” Starsky’s bedroom voice cut through the darkness. Hutch opened his eyes and smiled slowly.

“I was thinking about the blow job I gave you in the shower this morning,” he admitted.

Starsky squirmed. “Man, Hutch! I’m drivin’, here!”

“Gottcha back, then partner.”

Starsky grunted and drove a little faster.

***

They looked at three more houses the next day, none of which suited them. The first one had too many things wrong with it. “We’ll spend too much money and time on it,” Hutch declared, although Starsky saw some potential there.

The second one Hutch liked but Starsky nixed. “It’s too far out of town. We’d have to drive thirty miles for a pizza.”

“It wouldn’t hurt us to give up pizza,” Hutch argued.

“Wouldn’t hurt _you._ It’d hurt me a lot.”

The third one, neither one of them liked. “I told her I only wanted to see houses with more than one bathroom,” Hutch complained, as they were cleaning up at Starsky’s apartment, about to head to their mothers’. “Why’d she show us that one? And I said ‘pond’, not sewer. That thing stunk!”

“You’re tellin’ me,” Starsky agreed, pulling on his white shirt and buttoning it. “And there wasn’t any TV reception out there! I gotta have TV reception.”

“I think we need to dump this lady,” Hutch proclaimed, before turning around and holding his arms out. “How does this look?” He wore the new green shirt he’d purchased with a pair of tanned slacks.

“It looks good. You tryin’ to impress my brother?” Starsky asked, grinning.

“No, I’m trying to impress you, dummy.”

Starsky raised a brow and sauntered up to him, placing a hand on each pectoral muscle. “You don’t need to try, babe. I’m already impressed.” He leaned in and pressed his lips to Hutch’s.

“Mmm…mmm.”

The phone shrilled through the quiet apartment.

“God,” Starsky complained.

“Like you said before,” Hutch murmured against his lips, “we don’t have to answer it.”

Starsky broke away and headed for the phone. “Not so easy when it’s your phone, is it, pal?” Hutch called after him affectionately.

Hutch heard his partner answer, and then his voice get considerably lower. Normally, it would never enter Hutch’s mind to try to overhear Starsky’s phone conversations, but the fact that he was trying to be quiet made Hutch curious. He crept closer to the door.

“No kidding? When? Sure, I’ll make time. Right. Definitely, I’m excited! Yeah.” He hung up, and Hutch scooted farther back into the room.

“Who was that?” he asked, slipping his wallet into his back pocket.

“Oh—just a telemarketer. Ready to go?” Starsky swung his jacket off the chair and turned toward the door.

It was such an obvious lie, that Hutch was caught off guard, and hesitated before following his partner out the door.

Why would Starsky lie to him? Who could possibly call him that he couldn’t tell Hutch about? Somebody Starsky was going to ‘make time for’. Who would that be? A woman? Did Starsky want to see an old girlfriend but was afraid to tell his partner about it? And why would that be? Because he wanted to see if he still had feelings for her? Hutch knew that his mind was running too far ahead of itself, and he made an effort to slow it down. It was all probably nothing. He needed to put it out of his head before he drove himself crazy.

Starsky was driving the Camaro, and Hutch rolled down the passenger side window to let the breeze blow through his hair. He took several deep breaths as they neared the ocean. When they pulled up to their mother’s house, Joanne Starsky was just coming out the front door.

“I’m going to the airport to pick up Nicky and Heather,” she informed them, unlocking the Oldsmobile she and Barbara were sharing. “We’ll all eat when I get back. No tasting, David,” she told her son pointedly. Starsky looked affronted.

“Who, me? I guess you think the Blintz is above taking a bite or two?”

“Hutch’s manners are too good for him to do such a thing,” Joanne said knowingly. She slid behind the wheel. Starsky laughed, and while he remained to talk to her a moment, Hutch went into the house.

“Kenneth!” His mother came out of the bedroom and kissed him on the cheek. “You look so nice, sweetheart!”

Hutch blushed; he couldn’t help it. It was a curse, really.

“Where’s David?” Barbara asked. “I want to see my son-in-law.”

“Mom! Now none of that in front of Starsky’s brother. He probably isn’t going to be receptive to our relationship. He didn’t even like me before. Starsky’s outside talking to his mother.”

Barbara wandered over to the front window. “No, Joanne’s gone. He’s talking to some guy.”

Hutch came up behind her. Starsky was standing at the edge of the small front yard talking to Benny, who, what with the jogging shorts and the hard breathing, appeared to be out for a run. His broad chest was bare and glistening with sweat.

“Hmmm, looks like you have a bit of competition, honey,” Barbara teased.

“Very funny, Mom.” Hutch turned toward the kitchen and got a glass of water.

“I have a surprise for you,” Barbara said. She whipped a cloth off of something on the table, and then moved across the room. Hutch came in from the kitchen to find her setting up a screen.

“What’s that? Oh my God, Mom…home movies?”

Starsky came in from outside, closing the door behind him. “Did you say home movies? Of Hutch? I wanna see!”

“No way,” Hutch argued, looking stubborn.

“Come on, Ken. You haven’t seen these, I’ll bet. I found them with a bunch of other stuff in your father’s study closet. Took me all morning to set up the projector.” She turned it on, and a light flashed onto the screen she’d set up in front of the TV.  Starsky went and closed the curtains, then turned off the lights. He sat on the couch and patted the seat beside him. With a sigh, Hutch sat down and handed his water to Starsky, who took a couple gulps before setting it on a napkin.

The clicking noise of the projector filled the room as Barbara started the film forward. Gritty black and white images projected onto the screen, with occasional blips and streaks of white.

“Man, Hutch, is that _you_?” Starsky asked, grinning widely. Hutch put a hand to his face. Starsky leaned forward to study the pudgy blond baby sitting in the middle of a flower bed putting chunks of dirt in his mouth.

“I can’t believe you let me do that, Mom,” Hutch groaned.

“Oh, it was so cute!” Barbara enthused. “You loved dirt.”

Hutch’s pudgy baby hand got hold of a dandelion and pulled it out of the ground, waving it in the air.

“You and your plants, Blondie,” Starsky shook his head, laughing.

The screen flashed white and the next scene was Hutch in the bathtub, about a year later. He was splashing and playing with toys while someone off camera waved a rubber duck.

“Good grief,” Hutch sighed.

There were a few more toddler pieces, and a shot of a day at the zoo. Hutch’s mother appeared to be doing the filming; Hutch’s father was conspicuously absent. A couple of scenes later, a five-year-old Hutch dressed in a dark sailor outfit pulled a wagon with a little blond girl in it. She teetered and wobbled at every bump in the yard but somehow managed to remain sitting upright. Small Hutch stopped every so often to pick up a rock that interested him and set it carefully in the wagon. As soon as they got going, Carolyn would grab the rock and chuck it out. Starsky and Barbara chuckled at that, and Hutch couldn’t help but smile. “Out to get me even then,” he commented.

A few birthday parties, and about five minutes of Hutch and a date dressed for the junior prom and looking very embarrassed. Starsky made a couple of wolf whistles and nudged his partner. The next scene brought Hutch off the couch and halfway to the projector before Starsky could jerk him back.

“Mom! Turn that off!”

“No, keep it on, Barbara, I wanna see!” Starsky objected, grabbing his partner by the forearms and holding fast. Hutch moved toward the screen and Starsky jumped him, knocking him onto his stomach on the floor. He perched on his butt, holding him down. “Holy crap, Hutch, I didn’t know you could figure skate!”

“Mother, if you ever loved me, you will turn that off right now!”

“Nonsense, Kenneth, you were a wonderful skater. Even better than your sister.”

Starsky watched, mesmerized, as a teenage Hutch and Carolyn skated gracefully across the rink.

“I wish this had sound. What was the song?”

“I believe it was ‘Crying’ by Roy Orbison. Wasn’t that it, Ken?”

“I don’t know,” Hutch muttered, his face buried in shag.

Starsky watched, open-mouthed, as his partner’s image on the screen skated rapidly backwards while looking over his shoulder, executed a perfect camel spin, then moments later performed a lift with his sister while achieving a deep outside edge. Of course, he didn’t know these terms, but Barbara was giving commentary. He simply couldn’t believe that his often clumsy partner, who couldn’t dance his way out of a paper bag, could figure skate like that. Looking to be about eighteen at the time, he was far more skillful on skates than his younger sister. He looked as though he was born on them.

“Carolyn wanted to be a figure skater so badly,” Barbara said from her place behind the projector. “She needed a partner in order to perform in competitions, and she talked her brother into training with her. Ken took to it like a duck to water. Skated for four years.”

“Shoot me now,” Hutch said in a monotone from the floor. Starsky patted him lovingly on the back.

“Carolyn was pretty good, but Ken was phenomenal. Their coach begged him to stay with it and train for the 1964 Winter Olympics, but he wouldn’t.”

The young Hutch and Carolyn on the screen circled the rink in tandem, and then Hutch performed a lunge that instantly made Starsky hard in his jeans. Hutch felt his partner’s cock poking into him and lifted his head from the carpet, giving him a sardonic look over his shoulder. Subsequent sit spins and stag jumps had Starsky suddenly leaping up and excusing himself for the bathroom. When he finally came back, the lights were on and the projector off.

“Uh, must’ve been that soup we had for lunch,” Starsky said, and Barbara made sympathetic noises. The front door opened and Joanne, Nicky, and his fiancée Heather entered the house. There were greetings all around, and Hutch was a little surprised by Nicky’s lack of cocky bravado. Heather seemed like a nice girl, if a bit shy. Hutch suspected that she made Nicky feel tough and protective, and maybe that was a good thing. Helping his mother put away the screen and projector, he thanked his lucky stars that Starsky’s little brother had been too late for the show.

Over dinner, Starsky arranged for him and his brother to hang out the next day while Joanne took Heather out to lunch and shopping. Since he and Hutch had already discussed the importance of the two brothers having some time alone, he did not bring up Hutch accompanying them.

“That wasn’t so bad,” Hutch commented on their way home, after they’d dropped Nicky and Heather at their hotel.

“Nope, not at all,” Starsky agreed. “It went much better than I thought it would. Heather seems like a nice girl, too, and I can tell Nicky is crazy about her.”

“Maybe she’s good for him,” Hutch agreed.

“I hope so. Hey, I’m gonna call my landlord tomorrow and put in my notice,” Starsky said after a few moments. “Wanna stay at my place tonight?”

Hutch raised a brow. “You want me to?”

“After seeing those moves you had on the ice, I _need_ you to, if you get my drift. Hutch, I can’t believe you never told me about that!”

“It isn’t exactly something I’m proud of, Starsk.”

“Why the hell not? You were great!”

“So I’m supposed to say to my tough-as-nails partner who trusts me to back him up on the hard streets that I was once a pretty good figure skater?” Hutch laughed and shook his head. “No, thanks.”

“Well, you better believe if it was me, I’d be gloatin’ over it. Bet that got you a lot of chicks.”

“You’d lose that bet, buddy. Anyway, I wouldn’t have been able to go out with them. The skating took up all my time. That’s why I quit—I wanted to go to college.”

Starsky shook his head. “You could’ve won a gold medal.”

“We would never have met if that happened, mushbrain.”

Starsky looked over at him, shocked, the idea never having occurred to him. “You’re right! Well, then I guess it was a good thing you quit. I still wish you’d told me about it, though.”

“Why?” Hutch asked, genuinely puzzled.

“’Cause I like to know everything about you, that’s why.” Starsky shrugged, and Hutch shook his head, thinking he’d never fully understand his partner, even if he lived to be a hundred.

***

The next morning Hutch woke up alone. Starsky had left hours earlier so that he and Nick could go golfing. Stretching, Hutch laid his hand where Starsky had slept, feeling no residual warmth. He vaguely remembered his partner kissing him on the head before heading out around six A.M.

He already felt lonely.

Amazing how he and Starsky could spend every day and night together and he couldn’t even stand to have one day away from him, Hutch mused as he got busy picking up the apartment. He planned to have it thoroughly cleaned by the time Starsky got home that evening. He washed a load of dishes and then swept the kitchen floor. Next he changed the sheets and put them in to wash, something that had to be done almost daily now. He vacuumed, dusted, then took a shower, shaved, and got dressed. He was about to head over to his apartment to take care of a few things when he noticed the light on the answering machine blinking. Realizing it must’ve rung when he was in the shower, Hutch crossed over to the table and rewound the tape, wondering if perhaps Starsky had called and left him a message.

He pressed play and waited.

“Dave,” a male voice began, “Benny, here. Sorry I couldn’t come to the phone. Six tomorrow evening will be perfect. See you then.”

Hutch stood staring at the machine a moment. _Starsky has plans with Benny tomorrow night?  Wonder why he didn’t mention them to me?_

He reset the tape to blink again so that Starsky would be sure to see it, and headed to his place.

Starsky called him when he got in that night.

“Have a good time?” Hutch asked, lying on the bed and absent-mindedly rubbing his chest with his fingers.

“A pretty good time. I’m exhausted, actually. Eighteen holes of golf, then dinner with Ma and Heather. I just wanna take a shower and go to bed. You don’t mind, do you?”

“No, that’s fine. I’m just reading.”

“The apartment looks great, by the way. Thanks for cleaning it, babe.”

“No sweat. Hey, I think there’s a message on the machine.”

“Thanks, I got it. See you tomorrow, ‘kay? Love ya.” And he hung up.

Hutch leaned back and stared at the ceiling, wondering why Starsky didn’t bring up his plans with Benny.  He’d have to mention them to him sometime. He settled down farther in the bed and reopened his book.

He’d dozed off when the phone woke him up.  He glanced at the clock—twenty minutes after eleven. He grabbed the receiver and muttered a sleepy hello.

“Kenneth? This is mom.” Something in her voice awakened Hutch quickly.

“Is everything all right, Mom?”

“We’re fine, but something’s going on across the street, and it kind of has us rattled. Could you and Dave come over?”

Hutch was already out of the bed and pulling on his jeans. “Starsky isn’t here, but I’ll be right over.”

“Oh, well, Joanne did try calling him, but he didn’t answer.”

“He was exhausted. He’s dead to the world, I’m sure. I’ll be right there, Mom.”

Hutch pulled a shirt on and slipped into his shoes, then grabbed up his keys and left.

When he reached their street, there were police lights rotating and bouncing off every tree and house. Three cruisers sat at the house catty corner to his mother’s, and a group of people stood in the yard. Hutch parked the Camaro and walked over, spotting an officer he knew.

“Welsh. What’s going on?”

“Hutch, what’re you doing here?” the man in uniform asked.

“My mother lives across the street. She called me because the commotion scared her.”  
Welsh shifted the toothpick he was sucking on to the other side of his mouth. “Disturbing the peace. The man’s drunk, and his son and his friends were getting loud. Guy next door called it in.”

Some shouting and cursing drifted out the window of the house.

“Who are these people?” Hutch asked, rethinking his earlier assessment that it was a nice neighborhood.

“Man’s in his fifties…out of work. Twenty-year-old son fresh out of jail for stealing. First time we’ve been called out here, though.”

“Thanks, Welsh.” Hutch put a hand on his shoulder and walked across the street. His mother opened the door as soon as she saw him, motioning him in and then shutting and locking the door.

She and Joanne Starsky were in their robes, looking tired and anxiety ridden.  
What’s going on, Kenneth?” his mother asked nervously.

“They just got a little loud over there. Someone complained. It’s alright, Mom. You have good locks on the doors—Starsky and I made sure of it when you moved in.”

Joanne let out a sigh of relief. “Thank goodness. We didn’t know what to think when we saw all the police lights. We thought it was a murder or something. I would’ve sent Bill over there, but he’d taken his medication and I couldn’t wake him.”

“Bill?” Hutch asked, confused.

“He’s in Joanne’s bedroom,” Barbara explained, and Hutch’s brows shot up.

“Do you want a cup of coffee, sweetie?” Joanne asked, heading for the kitchen.

“Um, no, thanks. I’m just going to use the bathroom before I go home.”

He headed down the hall and peaked into Joanne’s bedroom, wondering if maybe there was some other explanation for the man being here. When he saw that Bill had rolled over in his sleep and was obviously naked, and that there was a bottle of wine and two glasses on the nightstand, he had to admit that if it looks like a rose and it smells like a rose…

Returning to the living room, he kissed the ladies’ cheeks, reminded them to double lock the door, and headed outside. The police cruisers were just leaving, and all seemed quiet again across the street. As he pulled out of the driveway, he spotted Scott on his door step down the street. Hutch pulled up in front of his house and rolled down the window. Scott recognized him and stepped off the porch, walking toward the car.

“Some kind of commotion going on down the street,” Scott commented when he’d reached Hutch.

“Drunk,” Hutch told him. “My mom called me a little scared.”

Scott shook his head. “That kid over there is bad news. Looks at me like he’d rather stab me than speak.”

“Maybe we’ll be lucky and they’ll move,” Hutch quipped. “Well, I’m heading out.”

“Still coming over tomorrow night?”

“Is that tomorrow? Uh—I guess so.”

“Around six.”

 The two men said goodbye, and Hutch drove home, wondering if he should mention Bill staying overnight with Joanne to Starsky. He knew it would only upset him, and what was he going to do about it? Tell his mother she wasn’t allowed to sleep with a man? No, he decided it would probably be best to keep it to himself.

***

“What are you doin’ still in bed, Blintz?” Starsky asked, bouncing on the mattress and smacking his lover on the butt.

“Sleeping,” Hutch mumbled from the pillows.

“What happened to your morning jog?”

“I was up late last night,” Hutch answered groggily.

“Oh, yeah? Doin’ what?” Starsky straddled his lover’s back. “You were in bed reading when I talked to you, and that was pretty early.”

“Our mothers called. Something was going on across the street…a lot of police cruisers were there.” Hutch rolled over, dislodging Starsky, and stretched. “They were kind of scared, so I headed over.”

“What was goin’ on?” Seeing Starsky’s frown, Hutch put a hand on his leg.

“Just some kids disturbing the peace. Welsh was there, and I talked to him. Everything was okay. But it was about one in the morning when I got back here.”

“Poor baby,” Starsky said, running his fingers through Hutch’s blond hair.

“I talked to Scott. He expects us tonight.”

“Tonight? Oh, well, I can’t tonight. I’ve got something going on tonight.” He stood up, looking around absentmindedly. “You mind going alone, babe?”

“Hey, you’re the one all gung-ho about holding hands in front of the guys,” Hutch objected. When no explanation was forthcoming, he sighed. “I’ll call and cancel.” Hutch knew very well what Starsky had planned because of the message he’d heard. What he didn’t know was why his partner didn’t tell him about it.

“Aw, don’t do that. We already ran out on them once. You go—you’ll have fun. And I tell you what,” Starsky snapped his fingers. “I’ll take you somewhere for lunch. Get up and dressed, sleepyhead.”

Hutch sat up. “So you’re ditching out on me two nights in a row? What’ve you got going on?” He stood up and padded to the bathroom, but paused to turn around and look Starsky in the eyes.

“Just something I promised Huggy I’d do with him a while back. No big deal. We can spend all day together.” Starsky looked away before he’d completed the sentence, and Hutch couldn’t believe he was catching him in another lie.

Feeling a little hurt, Hutch turned and went to take his shower.

They did spend the day together. Lunch at one of Hutch’s favorite natural food places, a trip to the book and antique store, a drive to scope out possible houses. They stopped briefly at their mothers’ house to see Nick and Heather, who were staying for dinner. When they heard Starsky had plans, they wheedled Hutch into coming back on his own to eat. He told them he couldn’t, but that he’d stop by after going to Scott’s.

“I did remember to turn my notice in to the landlord,” Starsky told Hutch when he pulled up outside Venice Place.

“That’s good.” He paused, wondering if Starsky would come clean. When he didn’t, he added, “Well, see ya, pal. Tell Huggy I said hello.” Hutch got out of the car and watched his partner drive away.

Hutch walked up to his apartment, turning things over in his mind. He didn’t want to over-think it, but the fact was that Starsky had lied to him twice in two days. Had that phone call from the ‘telemarketer’ been Benny, too? It seemed likely. Why would Starsky lie? Did he think Hutch would really care if he wanted to do something with a friend that didn’t include him? Apparently not, since he readily told him he was doing something with Huggy.

Hutch talked all this over with his plants as he watered them. As usual, they didn’t have any answers, but they were good listeners. “I’m going to find you a nice place out of the city where you can get all the clean oxygen you want,” he promised them, putting away the watering can. After that, he sorted laundry, amused to find more of Starsky’s stuff at his place than at his partner’s own apartment. When he got a load in, he went to clean the bathroom. Finally, he showered and headed for Scott’s.

Scott and Joey were out on the back patio. Hutch heard the music and talking when he got out of the car, so he circled around to join them.

“Hey, Ken! Where’s Dave?” Joey asked, lighting a cigarette.

“He couldn’t come. Said to tell you he’s sorry.” Hutch took a seat in a lounge chair. When Joey offered him a cigarette, he took one, although he hadn’t smoked in years. His nerves were rattled, as they always were when things were a bit off between him and Starsky. He took a drag and released the smoke, immediately feeling calmer. Scott handed him a beer.

“I was just about to go pick up a pizza,” Joey said. “Any special kind you like, Ken?”

“I usually order vegetable, but I’m used to just about anything but the kitchen sink. Starsky likes to experiment.”

Joey chuckled and kissed Scott before leaving.

“Glad you could come, Ken,” Scott said, sitting in the seat beside him. They both looked off toward the ocean. Sea gulls dipped toward the waves, signaling a school of fish just beneath the water.

“Glad to be here. I’m really not going to be able to stay late, because I promised Mom I’d stop by. They’re entertaining Starsky’s little brother and his fiancée.”

“I thought I saw someone new over there,” Scott replied. “He walked across the street earlier to talk to the creepy guy and his friends.” Seeing Hutch’s confusion, he clarified, “The dude who was disturbing the peace the last night.”

Hutch shouldn’t have been surprised that Nick would find the only deviant in the neighborhood and take up with him. He finished his cigarette and put it out in the sandy grass, dropping the stub into his empty beer bottle.

“So, since this kind of relationship is new to you,” Scott said, passing him another beer, “I wanted to let you know that you can ask me anything you need to. I’ve been gay a long time,” He grinned. “I mean, not just about the physical aspect of it…it’s a real balancing act sometimes, two men in a romantic relationship.”

Hutch smiled. “Well, thanks. So far, so good!” He drank his beer, watching the sun set. “Starsky and I have known one another a long time, but I do have to admit that the romantic aspect throws a wrench in it.”

“Joey’s my third long-time relationship. And I’m just twenty-seven. The first two I really thought were forever, but …” Scott shrugged.

“I think the reason Joey and I work is because we aren’t exclusive. I mean, emotionally we are, but not sexually.”

Hutch looked at him. “Are you saying you cheat on each other?”

“We don’t think of it as cheating. Besides, most of the time we do it as a group,” Scott answered.

“You mean like an orgy?” Hutch exclaimed, reddening.

Scott laughed. “No, nothing like that. We just sometimes get with other couples and get it on. Nothing sordid.”

Hutch thought about that for a minute, and then hastened to say, “Starsky and I aren’t into that kind of thing. We are definitely exclusive.”

“That’s too bad,” Scott replied. “Joey and I think you two are hot. But,” he shrugged again, “if it’s not your bag, that’s cool.”

When Joey got back with the pizza, they ate, talked, listened to music, and drank beer. When nine o’clock rolled around, Hutch told them he’d better head to his Mom’s. The topic of group sex had thrown him off, but on the whole he really liked Scott and Joey. And they didn’t push any of it on him.

When he got to his mother’s, she was making dessert. Joanne was reading a magazine on the couch, and Heather sat at the bar. He saw that Nicky was sitting out back with a few other guys, most of whom looked quite a bit younger than he. Hutch kissed the two older women on the cheek and sat at the bar.

“Who’s Nick out there talking to?” he asked.

“Some neighbors,” Heather answered. She was a rather mousy, thin girl, but she seemed sweet, and fairly intelligent. Hutch thought he remembered somebody saying she was a librarian. That was weird, since he doubted Nick ever read a book in his life. Not the kind they’d keep in a library, anyway.

“Yeah? How come you aren’t out there with them?”

“I tried to get her to join them,” Joanne said.

“I think they want it to be just the guys,” Heather replied.

Hutch thought a moment, trying to come up with something to talk about with the timid girl. Finally he asked, “Did you two have fun over the holidays? You visited your folks, didn’t you?”

“Yes,” Heather smiled. “We went to Pennsylvania. My parents like Nick a lot.”

“That’s terrific,” Hutch replied.

“Barbara tells me you’re a wonderful figure skater,” Helen said.

Hutch slapped his palm on the table, causing Heather to jump in her seat, and turned a scowl on his mother. “Mom!” Barbara ignored him and poured water into the coffee maker. Hutch turned back to Heather, who appeared a little frightened by his reaction. “No, Heather,” he softened his voice, “I just skated for fun when I was younger. My mother likes to annoy me.” Privately, he made plans to get his hands on that reel and burn it.

“Nonsense, Kenneth, you were wonderful. Learn to accept a compliment,” his mother admonished.

“She’s right,” Joanne said from the couch. “Barbara showed me the movies. You were great!”

Hutch cringed. He hoped his mother wouldn’t show anyone else.

Sounds of loud, raucous laughter came from the back yard. “Excuse me, I believe I’ll join the men outside,” Hutch said, rising from the stool and heading out the back door. It was past time that he and Nicky had their showdown.

Nick sat in a lounge chair, wearing cut-off jeans and a Yankees T-shirt, his bare feet in the sandy grass. The three other guys were dressed similarly. Hutch noticed two of them sported tattoos that could possibly be gang related, but as it was dark, he couldn’t get a good look at them. All three looked no older than their early twenties. Two were Hispanic and well-muscled, and the third was white and so thin he appeared undernourished.

“Hiya, Hutch,” Nick greeted him, none too enthusiastically. This was the way he expected to be treated by Starsky’s brother; Saturday’s show was purely for the benefit of his family and fiancée. Hutch didn’t mind, because he’d never cared much for Nick Starsky. He didn’t trust him, and he hated the way Nicky managed to hurt his brother’s feelings in one way or another every time he was around.

“Mind if I join you?” he asked, and Nick shrugged. Hutch sat on the grass, his back against the short brick wall bordering the patio. “Ken Hutchinson,” Hutch replied, sticking his hand out to one of the three strangers.

One of the beefy Hispanics shook it. “Jorge,” he replied shortly.  The other was Ringo, and the skinny guy’s name was Mike.

“You live around here?” Hutch asked.

“Down the street,” Mike answered a bit sullenly. He took a long swig of beer.

“Oh, yeah?” Hutch had already figured he was the low-life Scott had spoken of. “You know Scott Wethersby?”

Mike laughed derisively. “If you mean one of the fairies that live a few houses down, I don’t like his type.” Hutch looked over at Nick, but his face was unreadable.

“Fairies?” Hutch said, and Mike snorted.

“That’s what you call a guy who’d rather screw a man than a chick.  A fairy. A fag.”

Hutch again looked at Nick, but he was staring out at the darkness, his hand making a clenched fist in his lap. “Well, Scott’s a nice guy, and I’d appreciate it if you wouldn’t talk about him like that,” Hutch told Mike.

The three young men looked uncomfortable. Mike stood. “We’ve gotta be goin’. Bye, Nick.” They walked away toward the side of the house.

“Thanks for chasing my friends off,” Nick said.

“Interesting choice of friends,” Hutch returned.

“Oh, so now you’re gonna try to dictate who I talk to? You’re just mad because they hate faggots, and that’s what you and my brother are.” He stared at Hutch unflinchingly. “You’ve turned my brother into a queer.”

“Now this sounds more like the Nick Starsky I know,” Hutch said, sitting back and wrapping his arms around his raised knee. “None of that fake stuff you put on for your mom or your fiancée. I wonder when Heather will get to see the real you?”

“Shut up, faggot,” Nicky spat. Hutch just laughed. A part of him felt a little guilty for goading him, but he was such a transparent little weasel. He couldn’t figure how he could possibly be from the same gene pool as Starsky.

“You two make me sick!” Nick ranted, practically spitting as the words flew out. “I shoulda known you were fucking each other…shoulda seen it years ago! The way you were always touching—it was _sick_!”

“You wouldn’t know love if it reared up and bit you,” Hutch said with disgust. “Why don’t you cut that poor girl in there loose before she does something stupid like fall in love with you.”

Nick stood up, his body taut with fury. “You’re going to be sorry for this, Hutchinson. Sorry for every word you’ve said to me tonight, and sorry for making my brother into a no-good, fudge-packing head queen.”

Hutch jumped up and grabbed Nick by the front of his shirt. “You’d better never let me hear you say that again, you little shit.” He pushed him backward. “The only thing you and I are ever going to have in common is we both love your brother, so this is what we’re going to do.” Hutch pointed a finger in the younger man’s face. “When he’s around, we get along. You hear me?” His eyes flashed fire.

Nick looked defiantly back at him, but said quietly. “Yeah, I hear you.”

“Good.” Hutch turned and walked back into the house.

“And you better have heard me, too, _faggot_ ,” Nick said through clenched teeth. “This isn’t the end.”

***

“Benny, it’s perfect!” Starsky cried, rubbing his hands together enthusiastically. “Absolutely perfect. I know Hutch’s gonna love it.”

“When do you want to show it to him?” Benny asked.

“I know the perfect day—Thursday.”

Benny thought a moment. “Ah—Valentine’s Day. You romantic guy, you!”

Starsky grinned. “That’s right. Hutch is gonna be so happy. These woods…the balcony. That sun room for his plants…man. I can’t wait to see his face!” He was almost dancing in place. He took another tour around the A-frame, opening closets and gazing out windows, picturing where they’d put what. There were so many trees, and a place for a garden…and even the pond Hutch had talked about. Starsky was giddy with excitement. He knew Hutch would want this house, no matter what the cost, but Starsky already had the means to make a down payment. He was going to sell his Torino to the collector who’d been pestering him the last two years to let him buy it, along with the baseball cards that had belonged to his late uncle. And he was going to cash in a savings bond he’d been holding onto. To him, it was more than worth the sacrifice to be able to contribute to their future. He knew Hutch had the money to make payments on the house, but Starsky wanted to take care of the down payment. And he wanted it all to be a big surprise for his partner.

When Benny locked up and they headed for the car, Starsky spotted a group of deer at the edge of the woods. He stopped for a moment, staring at them, wishing Hutch was there to see them. He imagined the evenings they would be able to look out at deer like this from the large living room window of their home. The thought made him feel so warm and _complete_ inside, he thought for a moment he might cry.Instead, he reached over and gave Benny a rib-splitting hug. “Thank you for finding this house, Benny! You’ve made me so happy!”

“You’re very welcome,” Benny smiled. “I know you and Hutch will have many happy years here together.”

“After all we’ve been through, we deserve to,” Starsky said, climbing into Benny’s car.

He didn’t know how he was going to keep his excitement from Hutch. It wasn’t going to be easy. Not only that, but he had to keep the sale of the Torino a secret, too. It was only a couple of days until Valentine’s Day. All he needed to do was avoid him until then. Looking at his watch, he decided it was too late to head over and try to meet up with Hutch. He’d just have Benny take him home.

***  
Hutch was beginning to feel abandoned by Starsky. He’d cancelled their last two dates, claiming he wanted to spend more time with Nick before he left. Then he’d cut short his visit the night before. They’d been hot for one another, barely pausing to get all their clothes off before falling into bed, but after making love, Starsky hadn’t stayed the night, making some excuse about having to be at home when the cable man came by in the morning. Hutch could come up with no ideas why his partner might be annoyed with him, and he still hadn’t come clean about being with Benny Monday night.

He thought about coming right out and asking him on the phone the following afternoon, but Starsky was well into a rant on the fact that he’d found out that Bill Wethersby was a gambler.  This bit of information had come from Benny, which Starsky readily admitted, but rather than telling Hutch he’d been somewhere with him, he insinuated that Benny had told him when he’d been jogging by their mothers’.

“I bet he’s after Ma’s money,” Starsky grumbled.

“Your mother doesn’t have a lot of money,” Hutch pointed out.

“Yeah, but she’s got some. I’m gonna tell her to stay away from him, before things get too serious.”

“Do you really think that’s a good idea?” Hutch asked, all too aware that things had already gotten pretty serious--Bill was spending nights in Joanne’s bed. He considered telling Starsky about this, but he could just imagine the scene that would ensue—Starsky accusing his mother of being ‘loose’—or worse, taking a gun and going to Bill’s house to defend his mother’s honor. No, there had to be some other way to diffuse the situation. He was relieved when Starsky dropped the topic.

Hutch breathed a sigh of relief when Nick and Heather got on the plane to fly back to New York Wednesday afternoon. Although Starsky seemed to have had a pretty good visit with his brother, Hutch got the distinct impression that he felt the same way. As for keeping things friendly, Hutch felt that he and Nick had done a pretty good job of it the few times they’d had to be in one another’s presence since their altercation in the back yard. Starsky did not even know they’d had words.

 “I’m gonna go see Ma. Feel her out about this Wethersby guy,” Starsky announced when they pulled out of the airport parking lot.

“Starsk—she’s a grown woman.”

“She’s my mother, and I gotta look out for her!”

Hutch held his hands up in surrender. “Okay, okay. Do what you’ve gotta do, pal. I may go spend some time with Huggy.”

“You don’t wanna see your ma?” Starsky asked, surprised, and Hutch looked at him.

“Quite honestly, I didn’t think I was invited.”

“Why would you think that?” Starsky’s eyes shifted between the road and his partner in the seat next to him.

Hutch shrugged, not wanting to sound pathetic. Starsky reached out and put a hand on his arm. “Come on, what is it?”

“You just haven’t wanted to spend a lot of time with me lately, that’s all.” Hutch almost winced at the way the words sounded and the stricken look they’d produced on Starsky’s face. “It’s okay---I mean, we don’t have to live in each other’s pockets now that we don’t work together,” he hastened to assure him.

Starsky blinked a few times before speaking. “Hutch, I’m sorry if I’ve made it seem that way. I love spendin’ time with you.”

Hutch shrugged again. “It’s no big deal.”

But Starsky knew it was a big deal. Hutch had a tender heart, and a long time ago he’d entrusted it to Starsky. Now that they were lovers, it was even more precious to him. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt his partner. For a moment, he considered telling him about the house immediately instead of waiting, but he really wanted to make their first Valentine's Day together special. Surely he could fake Hutch out for one more day without doing too much damage to his feelings.

“Well, tonight it’s you and me, babe. I’ve missed sleeping with you.”

Starsky dropped Hutch off at his place and headed for his mother’s. He thought about telling Joanne and Barbara about his surprise for Hutch, but he wondered at their ability to keep a secret. He didn’t think his mother was any too good at it, and he wasn’t sure about Hutch’s mother. No, he decided the fewer people who knew, the better, and that meant just him and Benny.

When he’d arrived at the little ocean cottage, something occurred to him that made him miss a step on his way to the front porch. Quickly, he hurried to the door and knocked, not wanting to use his key unless nobody was home.

Barbara greeted him at the door. “David! What a nice surprise. Joanne wasn’t expecting you, was she? She stepped out for a bit.”

“Oh…the car was out front…”

“I know, she’s just gone for a walk with Bill on the beach. Come in!”

“Barbara, may I make a quick phone call? Er, in private?”

“Of course! Why don’t you go on back to your mother’s room and use the extension in there?”

Starsky smiled, nodded, and hurried to her bedroom, shutting the door behind him. Sitting down on the bed, he picked up the phone and dialed the number he knew by heart. While it rang, he picked up the black and white framed photo on the night stand. It was a picture of his father, him, and Nicky, taken not too long before his dad died.

“The Pits---where the food is soul, served in a bowl, and your happiness is our goal.”

Starsky winced. “Hug, that was awful.”

“Well, excuse me for not havin’ a new snappy line that meets with your approval every time you call,” Huggy sounded irritated. “And before you ask, yes, I covered for your white, hairy ass, but I didn’t like doin’ it. It goes against my nature to lie to a friend.”

Starsky heaved a sigh of relief. “Thanks, Hug. I owe you.”

“What are you up to? You want to ruin the best thing you got in your life by lying to Hutch?” The disapproval hung heavy on Huggy’s words.

“Believe me, Huggy, it’s not what you think. I promise. It has to do with a surprise for Hutch, and I don’t want him to get wind of it. Thanks for covering for me. Uh, what did you tell him we did?”

“When he asked about it, I thought fast and told him you were helping me look for a new car. It’s the only thing I could think of at a moment’s notice---thanks for the head’s up, by the way. Seems like if you’re gonna  use me as an excuse, you’d let me in on it.”

“I’m really sorry, Hug,” Starsky said again.

“Here comes your better half. Gotta go.” The line went dead.

Starsky went back into the living room, where Barbara sat watching a soap opera. “Everything okay?” she asked.

“Yeah, fine. Just forgot something important.” He sat down in the oversized chair. “So is Ma dating this Bill fellow?” he asked in a way that he hoped sounded casual.

“I guess you could call it that. I don’t think your mother likes to date exclusively. She’s a free spirit.”

Starsky frowned. Those were hardly the words he’d use to describe his mother. “I don’t know anything about the guy, and I bet she doesn’t, either. She certainly hasn’t known him long,” he pointed out.

“He seems nice enough,” Barbara assured him. “I’ve gotten to know him a bit…he’s very tidy. He never leaves the toilet lid up. Jonathan used to do that all the time, no matter how many times I asked him to put it down. Drove me crazy. The only thing that bothers me about him is he takes that medicine at night…I forget what it’s for…but it makes him sleep like the dead. That’s the way he was the other night when those police cars were across the street. Ken can tell you---all that commotion, and Bill was dead to the world. If you’re going to have a man in the house, you’d like him to be something less than comatose when you need him.”

“He was sleeping here?” Starsky asked, a slow burn starting in his stomach.

“Well, yes, he does sometimes, you know. Joanne says she doesn’t mind his snoring, but I have to put ear plugs in, and I’m not even in the same room. That’s one thing Jonathan did not do---snore.”

Starsky stared at her, his mouth slipping open. His mother was having a sexual relationship with the guy? He suppressed a shudder. Just thinking about his mother having sex was enough to make his balls duck inside his body and threaten to never come out again.

Wait a minute…and Hutch knew about this? Why the hell didn’t he tell him? He knew Starsky didn’t approve of the guy.

“Bill was sleeping here when Hutch came over? Did he see him?”

“I don’t know if he saw him, although he did use the bathroom. But we told him Bill was here asleep.”

Starsky grit his teeth together, anger surging within him at his mother for sleeping with a virtual stranger, and at his partner for keeping the information from him. Abruptly, he stood. “You know, I just remembered something I have to do. Would you tell Ma I stopped by, and I’ll see her later?”

Barbara said she would, and he left, almost knocking over the mailbox as he pulled out of the driveway.

***

Starsky tried to talk himself out of being angry. He paced his living room for a long time, telling himself that Hutch just didn’t want to get involved.

But why the hell not? Didn’t what happened to Starsky’s mother matter to his partner? How could he keep silent about this? He must know that his mother’s well-being was of top-most importance to Starsky. He just couldn’t figure out why Hutch didn’t tell him immediately that Bill had been spending the night with his mother. Hell, the guy was obviously taking advantage of her! She hardly knew anyone in town, and he’d already insinuated himself into her life.  Starsky fumed, his fists clenching and unclenching as he circled his living room over and over again. He wanted to hit something or someone. He was wound up so tight, when the soft knock sounded on the door, he almost jumped out of his skin. His eyes flew to the clock. It had to be Hutch. They had agreed to spend the night at Starsky’s, but now he wished they hadn’t, for he didn’t feel in control of his emotions. Taking a deep breath, he crossed the room and threw the door open. Hutch looked surprised, his hand arrested mid-knock.

“Hi,” Hutch said, lowering his arm to his side. He stepped into the apartment and leaned in to kiss Starsky, but his partner stepped back, avoiding his touch. “Okay…” Hutch closed the door. “Wanna tell me what’s wrong? And don’t say ‘nothing.’”

“Oh, I won’t,” Starsky assured him, crossing his arms over his chest. “How about that I just found out my mother’s got a lover and you knew all about it.”

Hutch cringed. “Oh.”

“Oh? That’s all?” Starsky turned and paced around the room some more. “I hope you know I really want to hit somebody right now.”

Hutch stepped farther into the room, setting his jacket on the back of a chair. “Wanna hit me?” he looked at his partner so openly that Starsky almost melted. Almost.

“Hutch, why in the hell did you keep this from me?” he demanded.

“I’ve only known a couple of days, Starsk. And I wasn’t sure if telling you was the right thing to do.” Hutch perched on the arm of the chair. “I kept thinking of what you might do—go over there and yell at your mother, or shoot Bill Wethersby.”

“I can’t believe that she’s letting him spend the night!” Starsky exclaimed heatedly.

“She’s a gr—“

Starsky held up a hand. “Grown woman. I know, I know. I’ve heard it before. I don’t think you’d be as understanding if we were talking about _your_ mother. You like to go around actin’ like you’re so fair about everything, but if Barbara Hutchinson was over there letting some old gambler nail her to the mattress, and I knew about it,” he pointed to himself. “Let’s just say you wouldn’t be as nice as me right now.”

Hutch was truly sorry for keeping the information from Starsky, although he still wasn’t sure he was completely in the wrong for it, but  his partner’s tone was a little too much. “Oh, this is you being nice?” he asked sarcastically, “Sorry, I didn’t recognize it. You know, I find it interesting that you’re all up in arms about me keeping this from you, when you’ve been lying to me!”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Starsky asked, his eyes darkening.

“It means you got a call to meet someone the other night, but it wasn’t Huggy.”

“Oh, so now you’re listening to my phone conversations!” Starsky accused.

“I guess I have to if I’m going to know what’s going on!” Hutch fired back.  “And to top it off, you’ve got Huggy lying for you!”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Starsky turned away.

“There’s another lie!” Hutch shouted, standing up. “You weren’t with Huggy Monday night, you were with Benny!”

Starsky turned around slowly, his eyes narrowed. “And how do you know that?”

Embarrassed to be caught having listened to Starsky’s messages, Hutch’s anger turned white hot. “Why are you lying to me?” When Starsky didn’t answer, Hutch turned around and left the apartment, slamming the door behind him.

He peeled his Camaro away from the curb with a squeal of tires that rivaled anything Starsky had ever done in the Torino. As he drove, he realized he was gripping the steering wheel so hard his hands hurt. He loosened them and turned on the radio, letting out a string of expletives when a love song played.

Hutch drove for about an hour, his mind going over the argument in Starsky’s apartment until he couldn’t stand it anymore. He pulled off near the beach and got out of the Camaro, stretching. He was upset and he didn’t have anyone to talk it out with. He guessed that was the downside of falling in love with your best friend.

He walked on the beach in the darkness, wondering what to do. If he went back to his place, he’d just sit and stew all night. Pushing his hand down in the pocket of his jacket, he pulled out the piece of paper he’d written Scott’s phone number on. He walked back to the parking lot and the phone booth and put some change into it, dialing.

***

“When I said to call me if you ever had a problem, I never thought it would be this soon,” Scott said when he met Hutch at the bar.

“Yeah, neither did I. I had a fight with Starsky, and I don’t want to go home. Thanks for meeting me here.”

“No problem.” They had a drink and talked about nothing in particular. Hutch didn’t really want to discuss what the fight had been about. For one thing, the man Starsky didn’t want his mother dating happened to be Scott’s father. For another, Hutch felt uncomfortable admitting he was jealous of Benny. No, he and Starsky needed to hash this out themselves, but it was nice to have someone to hang with while he calmed down. Scott talked a little about disagreements he and Joey had had in the past, and gradually Hutch’s perspective righted itself until he thought he might be ready to face his partner again. It was past one AM. Scott had had a little more to drink than Hutch had, so Hutch decided to follow him home. He’d be able to check on his mother’s and Joanne’s place at the same time. And he’d call Starsky from Scott’s place.

***

If Starsky had been furious with Hutch before, he was _really_ furious with him now. He’d been driving like a lunatic when he’d left, something Starsky had rarely seen his level-headed partner do, and that had been hours ago. He’d called Hutch’s apartment at least a dozen times since then, and finally driven over there, only to see that the Camaro wasn’t out front. So where had Hutch gone? Starsky had gone by their mothers', and by Scott’s, but hadn’t seen the car at either place. Next he’d tried The Pits, but Huggy hadn’t seen him. Finally, Starsky returned home, hoping to see the car parked at his place, but the curb was empty.

“Partner, where the hell are you?” His anger now stemmed from worry. Had Hutch been in a wreck? Had something happened to him? Had he decided that a relationship with another man just wasn’t worth the irritation?

Starsky berated himself for not admitting the truth about his lie. After all, it was almost Valentine’s Day. He glanced at the clock on the wall. Hell, it _was_ Valentine’s Day. _And what a memorable one it’s turning out to be,_ Starsky thought sourly.

When the phone rang, he vaulted over the couch to get to it.

“Hutch, where in the hell are you?” Starsky yelled, then winced. _That’s a good way to make up with him, dip shit!_

“David?”

“Ma, why’re you callin’ me so late? Something wrong?” Starsky sat down on the stool beside the phone.

“David, I need you to get to Memorial Hospital as fast as you can, but please be careful.”

“Ma, what’s happened? Is Barbara okay?”

“Just get here, and I’ll explain everything. Okay?”

“Is Hutch there yet?” But his mother had already hung up the phone. Grabbing his car keys, he locked the apartment and headed for his car. Had Hutch’s mother had a heart attack or something, and Hutch had been with her all this time…and hadn’t called him because of the fight? Surely he wouldn’t let that stand in the way of calling Starsky when he needed him most? _Maybe if you weren’t such a grouchy mother-fucker, he wouldn’t,_ he told himself unhappily.

The drive to the hospital seemed very long, and when Starsky finally got there, he had trouble finding a parking space. He’d always found it eerie how lit up hospitals were in the middle of the night when everyone else was asleep. It’s like they were flaunting the words _death never sleeps._

His mother hadn’t told him where to go once he got there, so he tried the emergency room, knowing that’s where patients spent hours languishing before being admitted.

He immediately spotted his mother in the waiting room, right next to…Barbara. Who was crying.

“What in the hell is going on?” Starsky demanded, a lump the size of Texas forming in his tightening stomach.

“Oh, Dave!” Barbara wailed, flinging herself on him. Starsky held her, but his eyes sought his mother’s, the fear shining out of them like beacons.

Before Joanne could open her mouth, Scott appeared, his head bandaged and arm in a sling. Is this why they’d called him? But no…Barbara wouldn’t be crying because Scott was hurt, and if it was Scott’s father, his mother would be crying…he gave up and looked back at Joanne pleadingly, afraid to find out the truth.

“Scott,” Joanne said, “have you heard anything?”

“Mom…” Starsky begged, then turned to Scott. Barbara came out of his arms, her eyes going to the younger man, too.

“They’ve stopped the bleeding,” he said.

“Oh, thank God!” Barbara cried.

“Someone tell me what the hell’s going on!” Starsky shouted, and a dozen heads turned toward them.

Scott put a hand on Starsky’s arm. “David, Ken called me tonight, and we met at a bar for a while. Since I’d had a little too much to drink, he followed me home. He asked to use the phone to call you, and out of nowhere, we were jumped.”

“Oh, my God,” Starsky whispered, his blood turning to ice.

“Ken fought like a hell cat until they got him on the ground. Joey had been asleep, but he heard the commotion and came out with our gun. I swear, it was only minutes before he came out—we were lucky. He ran them off and called the police and an ambulance. The guys were beating us—one had a baseball bat--, but they really seemed to be concentrating on Ken. I don’t know why—they were calling us faggots and cock suckers—excuse me ladies—,“ He glanced at Joanne and Barbara. “But they were kicking Ken…when we got here, the doctor said he had internal bleeding and they immediately took him into surgery.”

Starsky was going to be sick. He took a step backward, but his mother grasped his arm. “It’s going to be okay, sweetie. Just sit down.” She nudged him into a chair.

Joey appeared with some coffee. “The police left. They said they’d be back later to talk to Ken. Dave—would you like me to go get you a cup, too?”

Starsky shook his head. He thought of all the times he’d sat in this hospital with Dobey or other cops. He’d always thought that when they quit the force, that would be the end of their hospital stays.

“Is bein’ gay even more dangerous than being a cop?” he asked, looking into the faces around him. “Ma?”

Joanne just looked sad.

“This isn’t fucking fair!” Starsky stood up. “I wanna see him. I wanna be with him. Is he outta surgery?” He strode toward the admitting desk.

“Kenneth Hutchinson,” he told the girl sitting there. “I need to know how he is. I need to see him.”

Scott appeared at Starsky’s elbow. “He’s in recovery, Dave. The doctor told me they stopped the bleeding and he’s in recovery.”

“I wanna see him,” Starsky repeated.

“Sir, when Mr. Hutchinson is placed in a room, you may see him then,” the girl assured him.

“I wanna see him, NOW!” Starsky shouted. He pointed his finger at the girl, whose eyes became frightened circles behind her glasses. “You can’t keep me from him, do you hear me? Nobody has that right!” Scott tried to pull him away from the desk by the arm, but with his injury, it was impossible. Joey came up and grabbed Starsky by the waist, yanking him away.

“Come on, man, or they’re gonna throw you outta here!” He shoved Starsky into a corner. “They’re not trying to keep you from Ken. They don’t let anyone into the recovery room right after surgery. Maybe if you were immediate family--”

Starsky broke Joey’s grip on him with a slashing movement of his arms. “I love him!” The intensity of his feelings showed on his face.

“Man, you don’t have to convince me,” Joey reminded him.

“He’s my—“ Starsky floundered. There wasn’t a word for it. They were no longer partners on the police force, and “partner” just didn’t cut it when referring to their private relationship. “He’s my everything,” he said quietly.

A doctor appeared, and Scott touched Starsky’s arm to get his attention.

“I’m Dr. Varnell, Mr. Hutchinson’s surgeon,” the middle aged man said, shaking Starsky’s hand. “And you are?”

“Dave Starsky. I’m Hutch’s lover,” Starsky said, staring the man in the eye and daring him to even blink at his words. To the doctor’s credit, his congenial expression didn’t change. “Let’s have a seat, Mr. Starsky, and I’ll tell you about Mr. Hutchinson’s condition.” At the appearance of the doctor, Joanne and Barbara had joined them, and Starsky introduced them briefly before demanding,“Is Hutch gonna be okay?”

“He should be. We stopped the internal bleeding. To your-“ he only hesitated a second “lover’s credit, he curled into a ball while being attacked, which protected him somewhat. All of his injuries were to his right side, which was exposed. Some of his fingers and his right wrist were broken from shielding his head from the baseball bat. Some of his ribs were broken, also. It seems his attackers alternately hit and kicked him—there was only bruising to his lower legs, and one of his kidneys is bruised. All in all, I’d say he was pretty lucky. It could have been so much worse.”

Rather than be relieved, Starsky was breathing hard with distress. Hearing how Hutch had been hurt tore him up inside. His mother put her arm around him and squeezed. “He’s going to be okay, Davey,” she whispered into his ear. Starsky thought to reach out and grasp Barbara’s hand. He held onto it tightly.

The doctor turned to Hutch’s mother. “As his mother, you can go see him for just a few minutes in recovery. It’ll be an hour or so before we take him to a room.”

Barbara looked at Starsky. “David can’t see him?”

Starsky nodded to her with a gentle wink. “You go ahead, Barbara. It won’t be long until I can see him. Tell him I love him.”

She followed the doctor through the double doors.

Starsky dropped his head, and his mother cradled it in her hands. “He’s going to be fine,” she assured him. “Oh, I’m so relieved.”

“Who would do this?” he asked.

“I can tell you that,” Scott replied angrily. “After taking my statement, I’m sure the police have gone to arrest them. It was that kid across the street. The one who got the cops called on him the other night. It was him and some other guy, Hispanic I think. Really big.” At Starsky’s look, he continued, “The kid’s always giving me dirty looks. I don’t know if he just assumed Ken was gay because he was with me, or what. But I’d swear the two of them were concentrating on Ken and almost ignoring me, which doesn’t make any sense.”

“None of this makes sense,” Starsky put his head in his hands. He was so tired. He could feel his mother rubbing his back like he was seven-years-old again.

“Those were the ones who were over at our place talking to Nick when Hutch came by,” Joanne put in. “ I saw them walk back across the street. Maybe they argued or something.”

When Barbara returned, she was white and trembling. Starsky stood up and took her hands in his. “How is he?”

“He—oh, Dave! He looks awful! One side of his face is black and blue and swollen, and he’s bandaged, and so pale!”

Starsky put his arm around her. “He’ll be okay. He’s been through worse.” He knew it was true, but he couldn’t stop his own shaking.

When the nurse finally told him Hutch was in a room, doing well, and that he could go see him, Starsky hurried down the hall and onto the elevator. Their argument kept rerunning through his mind—how he could have said those harsh words to the man he loved, he didn’t know. At that moment he didn’t care if his mom was screwing the entire state of California and Hutch had arranged it. He laughed at the thought, and stepped off the elevator onto the second floor, feeling a little giddy in his relief that his partner was going to be all right.

He pushed open the door to room 213. Hutch appeared much as Barbara had described him, and Starsky took a moment to look him over. He lay on the hospital bed as he had many times before, covered by a white blanket, an IV running into his hand. His right hand was bandaged all the way past the wrist, and his ribs were also bandaged. Starsky saw the catheter tube snaking from under the covers and into a bag that hung from the bed. The urine was pink-tinged. Although he’d been in this place many times before, somehow this time seemed so different. Starsky had always been worried, frantic even, when Hutch was hurt, but now he felt it even more. He never would have thought it possible.

Approaching the bed, Starsky sat in a chair and watched his partner breathe in and out. He took his left hand and held it, squeezing it lightly. Hutch roused, moaning low. “Easy, babe,” Starsky said, squeezing his hand again.

Hutch opened his eyes. The left one was barely a slit.

“You remember what happened?” Starsky asked gently, reaching up to smooth the hair from Hutch’s face.

“I get in between Dobey and the donut cart?” Hutch rasped, flinching as he shifted a little in the bed.

Starsky chuckled. “Nope. A coupla creeps beat the shit out of you with a baseball bat. That’ll teach you to run away from one of our arguments.”

Hutch seemed to remember then. He looked ruefully at Starsky, although it was a bit difficult to tell with all the swelling and bruising. “Sorry,” he said.

Starsky gave a quivering smile, letting out a half-laugh, half-sob. “Nothin’ to be sorry for, sweetheart.”

Hutch tried to smile. “Did you just call me sweetheart?” he whispered, and Starsky blushed. “Good to see you blushing for a change.”

“I’m the one who’s sorry, Hutch. And not because you’re lyin’ here all bandaged up, either. I didn’t have a right to go off on you like that. I know you were just tryin’ to protect my relationship with Ma.”

“I shouldn’t have kept it from you,” Hutch said. “I was going to tell you that, before—“ he groaned.

“What hurts, babe?” Starsky petted his shoulder.

“Try everything,” Hutch rasped. “My abdomen is so sore…”

“Bruised kidneys,” Starsky told him. “The doc said you did a good job of shielding yourself from the blows.”

“Yeah, well, gotta protect the family jewels.”

“Glad you did,” Starsky winked at him.

Hutch suddenly seemed to remember something. “Starsk? How’s Scott?”

“He’s okay,” Starsky rubbed Hutch’s arm soothingly. “He has a broken arm, but he’s walking around. He said it was the guy across the street and some other Hispanic guy that attacked you. But he also said they were beatin’ you much worse than they were him.”

Hutch stared up at the ceiling. Starsky saw that look Hutch got when the pieces of a case fell together. “What is it, babe?”

“Nothing,” Hutch said, closing his eyes. “I’m tired.”

“Hutch? Come on, now.” He stroked Hutch’s cheek with a finger. He decided not to push. “Happy Valentine’s Day,” he said softly.

Hutch opened his eyes again and looked at him.

“I have a big surprise for you,” Starsky moved closer. “It’s what I was tryin’ to hide from you. Why I lied to you about me bein’ with Huggy.”

Hutch frowned. “You got Benny to help you pick out a present for me?”

Starsky nodded. “And you’re gonna love it, my big, beautiful blond lover.”

Hutch smiled, then grimaced. “Ow! Hurts to smile.” He sighed. “Glad you’re not cheating on me, Starsk.”

Starsky’s mouth fell open. “Cheating on you! You think I would? And only a month into our glorious love affair?”

Hutch tried not to smile, but he couldn’t help it. “Ow, ow, ow!”

Starsky leaned in and carefully kissed Hutch on the mouth. Hutch’s eyes wandered to the door. “Better be careful.”

“Why should I? I already told the doctor and most of the emergency room that we’re lovers.”

“You what?” Hutch tried to sit up, then groaned in agony. Starsky put his hands to Hutch’s shoulders and pushed him back down.

“Come on, now, quit hurtin’ my lover. I’ve got plans for him when he gets outta here.” He kissed Hutch again. “You forgive me? For yelling at you and for lying?”

Hutch reached for Starsky with his left hand and pulled him closer, kissing him pretty enthusiastically for someone in his condition. “There’s nothing to forgive, hot shot,” he said. Despite the fact that Nick deserved it, he wasn’t going to tell Starsky his suspicions about Nick being responsible for him being hurt. It would hurt Starsky and Joanne. “Wish our first Valentine’s Day could be different,” he said.

“We’ll celebrate it when you get out of here,” Starsky promised. “Now I gotta go report to everybody that you’re okay. Your mom’ll be in here after a while. Get some sleep, pal.” He patted Hutch on the head and started to leave. He turned at the door. “I love ya, ya big palooka.”

Hutch nodded. “Love you, too, dummy.”

“All this love is making me all warm and fuzzy inside,” Dobey’s voice came from behind Starsky where he stood in the doorway, a large bouquet of flowers in his hands.

Hutch and Starsky both froze with identical deer-caught-in-the-headlights expressions.

Dobey waved a hand. “Oh, don’t worry about it. I’ve known about you two for a long time.”

“Oh, my God.” Hutch brought his left hand to his face.

“Exactly how long’ve you known, Cap’n?” Starsky asked.

“Years,” Dobey scoffed, taking a seat. Hutch groaned.

“You all right, Hutchinson? Moats called me at home when they brought you in.”

“He’s gonna be fine, Cap’n,” Starsky said, hesitating at the door. He didn’t want to leave Hutch to deal with Dobey by himself. “Bruised up, broken wrist and fingers.”

“Hate crime?” Dobey asked.

“Appears that way,” Starsky admitted. “Did they pick ‘em up?”

Dobey nodded. “Both of them had some injuries of their own. Hutch didn’t go down without a fight, and the guy with him got in a couple of blows. He said they were concentrating more on Hutch, though.” He looked at the man in the bed. “Got any idea why that might be?”

Starsky remembered what his mother had said about those guys talking to Nick when Hutch came over. It gave him a bad feeling, but he wanted to talk to Hutch before saying anything to Dobey.

Hutch was carefully shaking his head. He looked so tired, Starsky suggested lunch to Dobey, his treat. Before they left, Starsky leaned down and kissed Hutch softly on the lips. “We’ll talk later,” he promised, and Hutch knew that they would.

For now, he could settle down and think of absolutely nothing, but soon he’d have to face Starsky’s questions. A nurse came in and gave him a pill to help him sleep, and his mind faded into a blissful nothingness.

 

 


End file.
